Canary
Coal-black smoke, bursting,
tingeing flame-tips darker,
drawn upwards to escape
before it can
suffocate itself.

Your clothes
are stained with soot
as you hold me
all these years later.
I feel the strength
that tore the earth apart
and the tug
as your lungs pick at the air,
haunting you.

I would never ask,
but I’d never have to:
you would willingly
be my canary,
singing by pale lamplight
while I cake my hands
with your memories

and I would be yours
singing back in the dark.



Comments:
 
AnneBrooke   AnneBrooke wrote
on 3/6/2009 1:11:29 PM
I love this - it's very bleak and powerful. Axxx

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Published Date
3/6/2008 12:00:00 AM
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