published in Volume 5, Issue 4 on December 1st, 1998I look to me to find my way to who I am,
I do not like what I find.
I dream of candlesticks not yet burning,
see great furious fires in ice.
I feel a chill in a bird's song,
plug ears, look out my open doorway,
drop crumbs, inviting the bird in.
Eventually, pecking my kitchen floor,
I grab it by the throat, feeling wing bones,
hollow, fragile, feathers, soft as dandelion puffs,
able to fly free, as I never could.
I look into black bulging eyes,
feel the rapid heartbeat, and say
"Never trust mankind."
I know my power, open my hand and
It blinks, shrugs, peeps E sharp,
and flies out the doorway.
Later that night, ears unplugged
the bird's song cuts through the night,
shatters my windows,
tears down walls and roof,
and I stand in the sky---