Poetica Spontenaium 7/6/04
Single sparrow
sewing flights between clouds
like half tied dreams and memories
patching up weather worn and well loved
summer days from fog and chill
splendid silken soarings and song
like confessions
unanchored from one’s spine
so very unlike the burden of guilt
that is also sometimes truth.
How light the fast beating heart of that bird
How frail, furious, and free.
Rooted to this blacktop,
there is envy in every exhale
And clumsy words with weary weight.
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