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.