colorful winged flight
silenced at its end of life
dragonfly graced us

wind shuffles
through the long grass

seeded heads
drowsy
in the percolating afternoon

broiled air
heavy and lethargic
laboriously ascends
its unseen ladder
into the barren sky

Arcady sings
from a place
of unimaginable height

the song
is a whisper
at the precipice

I am the wing
that awaits your breath
to take flight

you are the hand
hauling back
my cries. my mother’s
mother hardened
from dust.
you are almost
my eyes.

you are not sky
or frozen air.
i suspect  
you have no skin.

love is my left
wing smacked
on your pane
that i mistook
for an open door.

i let the nights
do their undoing
of my feathers into light.
maybe this way
you would welcome me.

You are like a sky.
A fire across the clouds.
And I can't peel my eyes away.
Like a moth drawn to your flame,
I'd rather burn down to nothing, then to
fade from your memory.
I was a part of you,     the way each  
                                crater
adds a little bit of character
                  to the moon.
And you erased me from your life. Dressed me in nonexistence.
                      It was easier for you to look away than to wrap me in
                   your love.
I guess I flew too close to you, because
my dear, you were the sun, and
when you pulled me into you,
                      my wings
disintegrated, and
                   I crumbled away in your
warmth.

They may pray to God and his divinity
Of which to me, is nothing more than a false reality
Oh the sinners and saints can burn
For only a holy angel will stir up my concern

Oh dear angel, a six-winged creature
Cover your face, your feet, and oh you fly
Oh, dear angel, I fear you not
Please just enchant me with those eyes

I did errands today
and I was confused

Something was wrong, astray
I mused

I settled into the evening quiet
And my disquieted soul shouted

"The flags were not at half staff"
As the West Wing staff and Cabinet was trimmed by half

Yesterday, Congress was sieged by riff-raff
45 egged them on

Congress counted the Electoral votes
but our troubles are not all gone

Today, I needed to see that flag half-mast
My grief begged for a symbol against the bombast

And yet the flag waved, full staff, as if nothing and no one mattered
And no one has said a word