Reticulated

I went to the pyramid in the sky. Purple prisms spin out of control and onto the precipice. Here is the call the of eagle that was extinct last year but revived with some old DNA preserved in the lab. Reticulated. Somber.

The night comes with lightening and snakes awake to the LA rumble as it falls into the ocean.  There is a war that comes every hundred years and our time is up. Here I lay in mud, sinking upward into the blue eye and find the meaning of words written in pictures.

thunder on the crest 

shredded feather pillows float 

I am the writing. 

***'

Hey all, Here is day three's poem- a haibun. So far so good, but of course it is still early in the month. 

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