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The Battle of the Wise


I leave the lair of wisdom
It still bristles outside with eve
Air crackles the guard of blackbird
Centurion cumuli hover watch

The bird bounces around
Like toes on shattered glass
As if a green patch over here,
A tree there are blazing fire

Each year this pair returns
One black, one not so black
Each spring forming labyrinths
Of territory in battle arias

Itís a sweet sound to follow
Rebounding off mortar and bricks
In the depth of an echo uncoiled
Lamentations of last summer


© David Incoll 2001


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Copyright by David Incoll 2001