Wings
(Poetry) Indie music that lives primarily in the shadows
Wings
by Annie Hendrix
A cool cafe— cold. Blended ice, mochas and gelato. Indie music that lives primarily in the shadows, suspended in the syrup of reverberation Swan in latte foam, art, dissociation— (Death of my mother death of my father death of my brother death of a nation) suspended in the syrup of reverberation distant strings, birds and wings. I get goosebumps then.
Thanks for reading!
Bonus Post:
More Poetry by Annie Hendrix:
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Look toward the sky. What's up there? Everything hope, everything despair. Beneath, surfers slick as seals ride the crossing waves. Ascending w…
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I breathe in and the air is still; my last drag hangs like a flag unfurled, peaks and valleys on the wind. I breathe out and the birds scatter, …
Bird Notes
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The blank page is endless in front of me, its waters undisturbed This kind of perfection can't be helped by writing, it can only be ruined, and I am the …
gosh !
Hard to grasp the fluttering and at the same time strong beating wings of this poem.
im trying to put my mind into yours when you wrote this.
very affecting.
I find the juxtaposition of birds with the reiterations of death profound, heartbreaking, and at the same time, not in small part because of the last stanza, truly liberating. Birds never cease to inspire.