birthday
have you once felt inspiration from something ceasing / once, I saw a bird collapse out of the blueness it was once kept in / it plummeted, in silence, and I thought how / nice it would be to find rest on this afternoon / I am mostly enthralled in newness / when I am chained to something / unmoving / I baked my mother a cake on her 57th birthday / because I believed it would be her last and that her own hand / would bring the sort of bitterness to her mouth / that her heart could not survive / each birthday before / we were sure the call / the one that echoes / would ring out / ironically, as a morning bird / greeting a new day / and it would be new / in the way fresh absence swallows sunlight and time and half of every / breath we take / I never thought of her as a / bird / but as the sky that once / held me / I am the bird / and no one has ever made me / a nest / not even for one night / not even on my / birthday
Sam Silva says
THIS IS PRETTY REMARKABLE. I hope there’s more to come from this guy.