Sunday, July 26, 2009

The Bird I house free

with the second
I burst to yellow

an epiphany and the beak
breaks my chest

I feel the world rupture with song
from a lone wooden one

who knows everything opens
from nothing to then stop

with an apology of silence
and once closed inward

tucked with darkness
behind the door of its chamber

does then resume counting
the sound of its pulse

1 comment:

  1. the last two lines are chilling...makes me think of a prisoner marking days on the cell wall...

    ReplyDelete