not having wings gets to
my bones.
The skeleton feels like
prison.
and somewhere there is
a man-sized nest, and on
the days it's too much
to be a human,
I go into a hiding there.
I take up the longest
flight amidst the clouds,
witness the best sunsets
to stackup perspectives.
Then brood in the paddy
husk of laziness to call
it a cozy refuge.
Ohh to fold myself into
the warmth of borrowed
feathers, pull the silence
over my head and pretend
the world has forgotten
my address-
No expectations.
No names to answer to.
No need to be useful,
reasonable or particularly
brave.
Ohh to become a bird
without an obligation
to fly-
Perhaps I sleep there
until the weight of the day
forgets my shoulders.
and when I finally step out,
I carry a little sky under
my ribs-
that's delusional enough
to return to the unreasonable
business of being an
existential human.