kiln songs

the sky is flat
unbaked clay, still dusty
waiting to take a breath

morning yawns and stretches
repeated chirp
the simple pattern of a heartbeat
rises above other awakenings
even as it fades
over time and distance

a hawk's piercing call
slices through
seems a moment of clarity
but it silenced the birdsong and
left a wake of confusion
slowly retuning
its peaceful cacophony

a horizontal sliver
cracks the gray
blue glazed hints
promises of brilliance

©Erin Croley
(from #MadVerse,  #Magick_Words & #MSpoetry prompts)