Jump Little Children pigeon

The brackish roots of river pine
Anchored in my curving spine
Bend to the whims of winds design
And I lay down at your side
Above the brine and the reeds of clay
A swollen angel oaks bouquet
In the red wing blackbirds eyes of grey
A saltwater tear resides
But the sand and the earthen parapet
Silts into this rivulet
The blood and the banks will soon forget
A single tear was cried
And in this (unknown)
The nectar and the petal plumes
The purple swallow now exhumed
From the river that has died
The crimson of rinoculous
Gardenia and dianthus
The bloodless ivory water-lotus
Sweetly opens wide
Oh Without a voice left to sing
With waterlogged and heavy wing
Peaceful eyes, unsuffering
A pigeon floats in the tide