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Writer's pictureShannon Barter

ABOVE THE ABOVE

Today the blue sky sat still overhead

(The storm is coming)

Birds called for their mates

To bask on the branch

And listen for the popping bud

(The storm is coming)

 

It’s looming

Out there

Where do the birds go when it storms?

When the promise of spring

Stops dead in its tracks

 

The fat robin came out today

As the tumultuous grey waves blew in overhead

It bounced from spot to spot

Not taking too much

Taking just enough

To weather the storm

The storm that is near

 

A seed

A worm

Another seed

From the lawn that was just waking up

 

It’s eminent as the sky churns

Wiping across

And over the last bits of

The calm blue above

 

It moves

Overs the roof, past the trees, over the open sky

Above the matted lawn

That has just started stretching as it awakened

Past the other tress

A straight line of travel

Rapid, onwards, sucking in

The storm that is coming

 

The robin grabs its last seed

And flutters off

To where the birds go

When the storm comes

Taking it with the song

And the chirp

And the promise

Of the snap and pop of the bud

 

I too go in

Where the humans go

When the storm is coming

 

Life moves slowly when the wind blows

Life moves anciently when the skies churn above

The only thing that begins to matter

Is the passing of time

And the innate knowledge

That the calm blue is still above the above

 

And that the above swirling chaos

And frenzy

Will churn itself out of existence

Leaving only the blue stillness overhead

 

And we will emerge and greet the robin

And the popping bud

And the stretching lawn

 

And so it will be if we go

To where the humans

And the birds go

When the storm comes

 

 

 

 

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