Sleeping on Eggshells
 

I say it was the cigarettes
The beers and the brandy
Daily whites and browns
            and nary a rainbow
But really who am I to know

Too many questions were left
Unasked, in my throat like that canary
Yellow-bellied and losing feathers

So each time I light up you float
Out of the open spaces of this nest
And singe brand new holes
throughout my life
For feathers to bleed out into winter

***

Rebecca Thrush works in property management in Massachusetts but utilizes poetry and digital mixed media as creative vehicles to explore the symmetries between nature and interpersonal relationships. Her poems have appeared in Open Minds Quarterly, Wingless Dreamer, 86 Logic, and Coffee People Zine. Select pieces are also available online across various publishers, most notably with Line of Advance.