The Robins Feast

a poem to lighten the mood

The sky rips open with a shudder - jean fabric stretched tight.
Vision pales after lightening dilates my brain
Embedded on my iris sits a crag, jagged dark line.
The inverse of the bolt.
The sound impresses much the same.  
A void fills my ear canal after the roll of horse hoofs.
They depart into the distance.
Calm resides. Vision pales and clears.
Pitter.  Kitten Paws. Patter.
Washes static air to ground.  Lifting the smell of dirt and earth.
Thousands of dancing kittens purr.
While distant, over rolling hoofs, colors play in the wind unmoving to form their majestic halo of light.
A swarm of isolated instances, Robins, intercede.
Knowledge precedes them.
Pulled up by the horses hoofs, the hidden magnets and the halo of light
Tiny torsos emerge on sidewalks to battle in the pools of liquid wonder.
Robins feast, to full…
And fly away, following the distant sound of horse hoofs.  

March 28 2017 by me.