Feathers of Doom Littering the Ground
The leaves of the birch tree
where crows build their nests
were electrified and magnetized.—
I saw a surge of ghostly bodies.
I saw fireflies glimpse like
small eyes of rats.
I saw feathers dropping like bombs,
littering the ground.
I saw wings surge and flutter,
ashen and apocalyptical.
I saw cremated images, portraits, indeed.
I saw a mirage glittering from
underneath their wings.—
Elliptical references to matters related to doom
best not discussed in the presence
of the full-moon.