Rhiannon Freebird Forgets Herself
Rhiannon Freebird lifted her name from songs favorites she danced wildly to long hair, straight flowing, freebird, hands, arms reaching up up, up, toward beautiful cerulean she’d have chosen Dreams if she thought it would fly or if she had any dreams left. Funny she chose those songs from when she had ideals loved without exemption smoked pot, drank, never behavior moderated, was angry only at her parents when she’s now angry at everyone spews hatred like colorful polysyllabic vomit at all the different people how many different people there are now . . . oh, where did they all come from? Rhiannon Firebird projected conspiracy theories today about them. Who? THEM, you know. Thunder doesn’t only happen when it’s raining sometimes during the winter, when cold stills, when memories become a hearth-fire, warm, inviting, the snowstorm brings thunder. Or way off in the distance, the storm that never comes but the thunder resounds, a tease, a reminder. Maybe Rhiannon’s taken by the wind, the sky. I knew her once, wouldn’t know her now, malice has stolen her soul.
Sascha Darlington ©2023
4 thoughts on “Rhiannon Freebird Forgets Herself #poetry”
Captivating poetry 🖤💖.
Thank you! 😊
My pleasure 🙂.