Burlap, Trumpet & Night Owl No. 12

I leave my life open tuned/songless

                I can’t keep myself uncollected

By the sources of opinion (seized)

                If I am dissuaded by the dark

I’ll parade in an obscure fright/gray & red

                Blanketed birds obeyed in the carriage

They arrived at the yellow river

                Under a single honeystar

I scratched my impatience (they wouldn’t fly)

                Until morning bled in my wheelhouse

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