Do you know the bird?
Of course not. each
updraft a soaring appreciation for
worldly things, textbook happiness
drowning distraction in a pond plump with water
lilies and tadpoles, sinking down to the
dirt, belly raw on dizzy ground, feet
scrabbling for a safe touchdown, sure this day there
must be a rock or a tree trunk, some natural end to the in-
between where a bitter desperate aftertaste singes the mouth, certain
nothing else will be known, that this sour tang is only to
remain on this tongue forever, no
asking you if you can relate is like expecting the sun to
rain down and openly weep itself out, quite
impossible, come on - remember, you
must see clearly - here
comes the lift again, fondest flying above, fully
forgotten panic until winds falter once more
I know the bird.