Sea Bird

Broken bird, high on the mountain

Where the green-blue lakes swam with your reflection

And the willow-sad reeds brushed your feathers

Off into the endless sky, 

Sapphires dripping off your wings

The eyeless wind against your beak

Like an ungrounded angel

Soft and dainty stretched from wing tip to tip

Ropes tight across your chest, Struck

The lightning storm that electrified

And killed your dreams of those 

Summer days in the hot, hot heat

Carrying a dream, dying in your chest

Struggling to breathe, burning you alive

Heaving with fluttering heartbeats

I feel comfort from the warm rock 

I watch you die from. 

Little bird on the mountain

Do you hear it?

Hollow and echoed, the bones inside you

Shattered and coughing, lungful breaths of mustard yellow

That scrape your marrow, 

Feasting the fatty meat between your breast and stomach

Bugs, maggots, twigs, and leaves

Does your beating heart slow with the poison that infects

Your veins?

The cherry drop of poppy dew, 

Like branches below you. 

Crystal and hard, refusing to bend and breathe

Into the earth 

That dirt that restlessly breathes and moves

And comforts you

The wind sees all

With its fingers across the grasslands

And feet flexed between beach sand

Lifting and carrying it from land to land

The wonders of the earth 

And the death that adores it

Broken bird, are you truly broken?