By Complica

I saw a blackbird today,
Dancing over the dead things.
Leaves and grass decaying to a
Selected shade.
Only hinting at variance,
Nature breaking the monochromatic
Scheme of the world

As I watched, it pecked the ground,
Hunting for something worthwhile
In the pile of rotting greenery.
Finding nothing of value,
It pecked and stomped and called,
As if the leaves were things it could hurt.

And as it flew away,
The bases of its wings exposed
Their right red shading.
A beauty I could only
Appreciate in its parting.