When still in flight but twisted — feathers turned to iron rust distancing the saving wind, clenched: the heart hurts here, clutching the places it holds to each wing barely enough to bridge, bound to keep whole, as defined by being in one piece — Suddenly a place between two oaks holds white flowers And again, after a space of darkness, a telephone pole lifts a surge of cumulous detailed in chiseled miles of light and not unwilling to fit inside the soul Later, when eyes must open against absence, fourteen vultures have found a thermal to heaven And when next it is needed (this is faith) the face of a newt, full sun beside a wall of dark rain, a dog standing on a small boat, tail slowly swinging, watching the ice chest come aboard
Held Aloft on Twisted Feathers
Held Aloft on Twisted Feathers
Held Aloft on Twisted Feathers
When still in flight but twisted — feathers turned to iron rust distancing the saving wind, clenched: the heart hurts here, clutching the places it holds to each wing barely enough to bridge, bound to keep whole, as defined by being in one piece — Suddenly a place between two oaks holds white flowers And again, after a space of darkness, a telephone pole lifts a surge of cumulous detailed in chiseled miles of light and not unwilling to fit inside the soul Later, when eyes must open against absence, fourteen vultures have found a thermal to heaven And when next it is needed (this is faith) the face of a newt, full sun beside a wall of dark rain, a dog standing on a small boat, tail slowly swinging, watching the ice chest come aboard