here I stand upwind
with a dead bird in my hands
in barren Eden
and look at the sore plucked backs
of my deserting brothers
I yell after them
“omens are a pile of crap!
who can blame people
if hosts of heaven act like
credulous aborigines?”
wind snatches my words
and mixes them up with sand
nobody believes
that cold grey ash in my hands
is an arising phoenix
by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2016
unbolt me 
Intriguing, and thought provoking, as always.
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Thank you, Vanessa. 🙂
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You’re very welcome 🙂
Hope things are going better?
I have a new doctor who I am really happy with. Will see him again soon.
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That’s wonderful to hear! Hopefully he will see you right! As for me, they are better, thank you for asking. 😀
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Thanks Tony, fingers crossed for a better year!
And I am so glad to hear that too! ✨
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I really like the images – esp the Phoenix rising from cold grey ash as a metaphor
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Thank you so much. We appreciate your kind words and your support! 🙂
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