(these birds do not return)

he never answers me


I hold my breath

‘til the arrival of death

lovingly buried 

clutching a bouquet 

of foolish hopes

and marigolds

still, in the after

I toss my loyalties

like doves

into the discontented sky

with their endless questioning

rupturing with vulnerabilities

woven in velvet thread 

yet these birds…

…do not return 

instead, they fly –

dissipating into half truths

clever misdirections

on the drowsy horizon

and my existence lulls

marred by those who refuse

to allow migration

to, for, within me

a. duncan, 2018



artwork: amy judd

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Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus || Love is rich with both honey and venom

6 thoughts on “(these birds do not return)

  1. I’m speechless at this wonderful piece… It grabs at that fierce instinct within to yearn, to long for greener pastures and that wistful hope for love. Such simple yet haunting lines, especially ‘clutching a bouquet / of foolish hopes’.
    Wishing you well for your next piece, darling (and thank you for such lovely words about my work!) 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I’d almost forgotten about this poem! I’m so flattered Tom, thank you. And thank you for travelling into my past and reminding me of places, moods, and words that have faded in memory – but still hold meaning in my journey! ❤

      Liked by 1 person

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