Lost Treasure by Dark Plasma

Dark Plasma | Dec 3rd, 2022 | poetry | No Comments

Poem

The enduring seabird died mid-flight,
and continued gliding the headwind…
Its birdsong became the death of a storm
Its widespread wings, the timeless skyline
Its encircling plume like the mist at dawn
Its memory became the ceaseless sea
of roaring cannon fire and sinking battleships
Its eternal dreams, the call of the whale
echoed in a breaking wave on a distant shore
Its avian spirit carried the unchartered sails
into the unimagined of the unknown
And as its bones entered the water,
it became the fishermen’s cast net
Its final resting place, his catch

Poet Bio

I wish we never had to make music..that it was just simply always there, like air..That we breathed music, and maybe I never had to try and get it out of me.

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