Fragments

the day ends with
a sunset of shreds
of red cloud like
blood spatter
after a crime

Julian O’Dea

 

poems in the poet’s nest
flower like the mouths
of baby birds with 
sounds of supplication
for publication and
migration who knows
how far from home

Julian O’Dea

 

After five cold nights
and a clouded morning 
the sun is bright.
My son whistles by
my right ear and birds
by my left. And a woman
walks by with ankles
like music.

Julian O’Dea

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: