what the bard did

I’ll just hide behind
the North Wind,
hollow my bones into a flute
to be played by a zephyr,
go be a droplet
in a rainstorm, then
transform all my water
into vapor before freezing to
an icicle, and ceasing to exist
in my current form.

don’t watch, then, as I fly away,
feathers gleaming black with an iridescent sheen,
cawing evil prophecies
to the wind. let no one see
as I leap upstream, showing
my gleaming pink and silver belly.
mortals, avert your eyes as I step
delicately into the woods
on slender pointed hooves,
lest you be blinded.

all of these are child’s play;
a hop, skip and a jump
compared to what’s
being asked of me.

I’ll leave a feather and a rock
in my place. they will
tell my tale, exhale
my radiant breath
to those that come

Published by

R. Brookes McKenzie

what fresh hell is this

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