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Angel (Returning Blackbird)

Returning Blackbird
(Brian Michael Tracy)

Black clouds cover our wings.
We disappear as we land.
Roaming the cliffs

we search for our hands
and find them
with our rosaries

inside a vase
holding flowers
weeping.
~~

Weary, the moon rests
like a thin man
in the arms of stars.

Outside waves beat rocks
into gravestones
beneath our lighthouse

under his gaze.
Wind passes
through his dreams

into our rooms
white
under black wings.