THE BAND AND THE BRUISE

The Robins speak, stuck together

in a background that holds Bluejays too

their steadfast camaraderie going unnoticed

as Life sparks around them and the air surges

with the spirited excitement of shoppers

Drawn they are together,  forever

in quiet observation, plastered perfection

separated by the artist hand

that gave them life

Sparrows draped into the fabric of uniformity

watch as time stops it's broken vigil

Sparrows curious, playing, half hidden

within creases of gathered cotton folds

mingling magic with mixed metaphors

They flutter with wingless movement

adorned on a motionless sleeve

Transfixed in curious watch

over the band and the bruise

Distance shortens with every breath

Melting into the ever thickening air

heavy with wistful longing of another time

when conversation broke the grip

of the prevalent pervading silence

The dream it breaks with a noiseless halt

drenched by a cascade of brown and gold

Memory acknowledges a dimpled smile

as the band and a bruise disappear