Poem: Swallowtails gulp down my frail

By: Emily Ellison


Photo by Andrea Reiman on Unsplash

Swallowtails gulp down my frail, yet renowned
attempts at song. Notes, like black fish, burble
in symphonic schools. Feed me nonverbal
worms, for I have hunger for an earthbound
tastiness, cuisine of the humble ground.
Feasts reeking steamed eloquence and herbal
style tempt me not. No, I live to warble,
but am impossibly consumed, spellbound,

by birds more voluptuous in sound. Tide
after tide drys my skin with its return,
taking scales, and I am mute-remaining.
You sit, swinging feet loose on the dockside
with cocked-head enjoyment of my heartburn.
Similar fowls flock to watch my draining.


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 )

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s