Classic Poem

In the sky
Your flock of birds
circling your reed house
swim in ecstasy
waves of colored silk
You atop your cart
a fallen knight, neck broken,
circle under them in silence
going from house to house
collecting garbage here, there
Your eyes inflamed, festering, gloom-filled
are fixed on the trash heap
while in the sky flocks of birds
create waves of pure color.
You gape, almost spitting blood
... the horse wearies ... how many times
it dies on its rounds
like a captive
while you circle,
circle,
and the flocks of birds
you do not see