If I were a bird only
with one song I wanted
to perfect, one tuned
bell to toll about
a river coursing near
or the echo
drawing closed the shape
of something I meant to keep
to remind me...
My ears are overfull
with froth and loam and bees
busy with the sound
of steadfast looking away
blinking into the distance
holding one note
between one hand
for all the flights
I will not take
1 comment:
This is so beautiful. I tried to read it to Kent, but did it poor justice. I've read it over and over.
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