skeleton mingo
stalks across the yard
leading spooky flock
deathly entourage

foregone faux feathers pink
with plumage black as ink
watchers haunting to the brink
render all unable to think

curved beaks
like scimitars
emit their hellish
cutting calls

their committee
is adjourned
as to their pluckish
work they turn

they strut upon
their hookish daggers
flaunting with such
arrogant swaggers

they stride into the scattered fray
survivors captured in their thrall
everyone shall become their prey
no one leaves the blackmingo ball

enshrouded by their inky plumage
none left to assess the damage
every bone, heart, and brain they take
this flock leave nothing in their wake

About Brad Werner

Technical Evangelist
This entry was posted in poetry and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s