some

Some birds don’t have
A drop of water within
The limits of their fragile flesh
For them
To see is to die
To collect the useless
Each feather becomes
A symbol of the sky they have
Managed to escape
A twisted medicine for the lopsided

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s