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Flight of Night Birds


Rusty Broadspear

His brood of brain birds were restless once more,

Flitting between hemispheres; old frontiers, between the ears.

Tense and twitchy, although at home in their outdoors,

Sensing pending, portentous menace within this bony sphere.

Beady Beaky The Elder perched on the corpus callosum

Edgily eyeing his family collide in clouds of feathers then divide,

To settle in fissures of the frontal lobe, upon this their wrinkled globe.

Beady Beaky’s fidgety wings sought flight, he wondered what this implied.

Flightless Tarkus Junior stumbled many times as he climbed the gyrus.

Invisible predators panicked his tiny heart, his face and feet were bruised.

His mother, fluttered branch to branch in the limbic system, searching.

Beady Beaky’s head rotated swiftly, eyeing all, worried and confused.

Abandoned nests in the sulcus grooves held only one broken shell.

Brain birds slept most of their lives but they’d awake to something weird.

Tarkus Junior reached the peak and slid down the other side………

The panic, fright and terror flight ceased as Beaky and his family saw Tarkus.

Spreading wings in sheer delight, beaks opened wide, they cheered and cheered
and cheered.

The old man was comfortable with another sleepless night,

There was no cure for these sporadic events in his head.

Acute tinnitus he’d been told; he told them different but he was old,

When all had gone quiet, he said goodnight to his passengers

And with a spark of amusement, he lay in the dark on his bed.

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