If I was a blackbird(I’d whistle and sing) or would I?

The Blackbird
like the black cat
like so many feel the urge
to leap into the heavens
to suddenly just surge
into the reality that opens
and we see
the chasm of creation
staring reluctantly

the lady of the species
her gowns tend to be brown
its only masculine energy
where black now wears a frown
a sentient
and a being
whose hearing is sublime
who cocks his head
and puts to bed
the beetle who may climb

up into the air
at that moment
and finishes him for good
the blackbird gave his eulogy
but still feels misunderstood