Little Red Bird

A folk charm against beautiful disasters

By Shannon HilsonPublished 2 months ago • Updated 2 months ago • 1 min read

The Houses Behind Me — Rendered by the author in GPT Image

Two black foxes
Courting May.
One lost morning.
One lost day.

One loved smoke,
One loved stone.
Neither ever learned
To walk alone.

Count to thirteen.
Count once more.
Lock the window.
Bar the door.

I left both
Before the snow.
Seeds remember
Where not to grow.

Little red bird,
Little white thorn,
Some hearts die
Before they're born.

Count to thirteen.
Count again.
Never marry
Hollow men.

Milk turns bitter.
Bread turns blue.
Ravens know
What sparrows knew.

Crows eat daylight.
Moths eat lace.
Every season
Knows its place.

Count to thirteen.
Walk away.
Night belongs
To yesterday.

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