each day I am bird glad.
hassling the sky

as it flies

	   straight

and believing my

enemies colour

		blind.
I am whistling and hooting

the air into

moulded proper shapes
(even now.)
		one startled day

I will inhabit

that kind place

as secure and comfort

able as a frenzied can

opy of

           soft

	     falling

		    songs

in delicate passage.
each invisible day,

		       (then,)

I will be sure

of my flight,

endless	         ly

twitter about some may be

destinations.
each

        new

	   bird

	          day,
      my community of

hollow bones

will finally, 	       gladly,

	       suffice.