I look at the sky.
A vulture hovers over
the horizon chest
like a tin pectoral cross,
barely hanging by a thread.
Smell of carrion.
I lie on the ground and see
the vulture falls down
into the cloudy collar.
The sky lost the faith. Like me.
by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2015
unbolt me 
Interesting sort of faithless animism. Beautiful poetry…
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That’s a very cool take on it, David. I like that. I think Tati will be delighted by your words! 🙂
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The portrayal of faith is sad yet beautiful.
Great job! 😊
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You got it in a nutshell, Trigger. Tati thanks you! 🙂
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I am hooked on the last line ‘the sky lost the faith’
Simple beautiful
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I see what you mean. If even the sky loses the faith then what hope remains for us mere mortals? 🙂
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Yes indeed. Thank you
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