June 30, 2009

…untitled no. 2 (9/23/2003)

I sit in a small room
awakened from a daze
by repercussion of glass
hit by a small bird drawn
by the splendorous light
and promised haven
of illuminated
bulbs wrapped around plastic
fallacies of branches
and I investigate.

My curiosity
is aroused by tiny
feathers encasing this
feeble animal who knows
nothing but ultimate
freedom. And her eyes look
of trepidation, or
ecstasy, I am too
young to know the difference

I take her in and make
her mine. It’s too early
to know whether she lives

or dies.