Ring a wrong of jangle keys
a pocketful of dearth
Four and twenty blackbirds
chime havoc in the heart
Shrink the heart with shaming
Make it keep account
Twist the song to locking
Pluck the clockwork out
Purse the savage silence
Stitch the gaping mouth
For if the throat should open
if the captive sing
then infinitude of blackbirds
terror taking wing.
Date: 2018
By: Andrea Ward (19??- )