Photography > POETRY

Love robins more than the spring

Where should our love manifest itself?
Where will we place our plumage in the plummet of winter into spring?

Where are the weavings of dreams?
Catchers for first people's
Blood on the fractured and birch for a baby

I cry a solo song for a lover
To fetch my music

It strays above the new spring
Where embraces are bolder than water as they
Wear down the stones.

A phone is not a singing bird rushing in quickly

Even if the video fetches you a
Happier meaning
A way
A place relevant for now

The leaning light on the broken wall

The muddied heartbeat where
You were overthrown in
That golden hour

Where true love can be.

Photographed deeper than the
Moments the album may bring
Upon its pages
Turning

The children sing with the birds
Common sparrows on fenceposts
Common sages
True marrow and birth

Of life rushing in

As the chalk breaks on the
Concrete

They draw a robin alone
On a branch budding and blooming

Calling for a love poem
To written for all the ages

But the adolescent hand only
Knows the depth and breath

Of a new home.

Francis A Willey
May 8th 2018

Love robins more than the spring
2018