We have lain together years uncounted,
have gathered nights like twigs to build a nest.
Days of ruffled feathers now discounted,
your hand fits rightly round the bird, my breast.
Contentment seems the song the bird would sing
cupped in haven hands. Still undetected
a hungry seed implanted under-wing
starts to feed, to grow, on unprotected
territory, usurp the proper life.
A call to shamans, white-dressed hunters
meet, pronounce the song to silence by the knife.
A vacant nest, the heart's an empty beat.
When calla lily fingers reach for me
rough sutures tear the nest, destroy our tree.

by V.T. Abercrombie

V.T. Abercrombie's poems have appeared in literary magazines such as Roanoke Review, White Rock Review, Bluegrass Literary Review, Rising Star, Slant, Madison Review, Pudding, Raintown Review, Pleiades, American Poets & Poetry, Borderlands, Illya's Honey, Visions International and several anthologies. Co-Editor Christmas in Texas, Co-Author Catering in Houston, Places to Take a Crowd in Houston, author of Houston Party File.