Monday, July 11

language of birds

i took a walk that morning
like i always do
i stood beside a steady lake and gazed
upon this hilarious queue of corvid
as this old lady threw pieces
of, i suppose, white bread on the ground
quietly sitting on a cruddy bench

i observed
like i always do
some of the birds would touch the surface
of the water

out of thirst, i thought maybe

and a small ripple would turn
into a small wave

i come home and sit
eat my almond butter toast
like i always do
for a split moment i bet i could fly
flap my made pretend wings against the
whirling wind

i towered on the top of the mountain
i saw the world beneath the white air
crystal blue water, green forests and
the scene between humongous grey rocks

i could've stayed but i left
like i always do