Black birds

Black birds, drawing circles in the cloudy sky,

Elegantly spread their wings as they fly.

Beneath the red roofs of the town,

Everyone searches for a key that should be there.

The laundry has been taken in,

The emergency food and flashlights are already prepared.

The smell of rain drifts up from the ground.

The speed at which the black birds circle

Is gradually increasing.

One by one, the exhausted black birds

Fall, spinning like screws,

Crashing into the ground.

The dull thud of their bodies echoes through the town.

People listen intently to that sound.

The key that should be there is still not found.

No one can remember where it was hidden,

Their skulls creak.

Little by little, the sound fades away.

The air is too thick, leaving throats parched and dry.