The wing is only a mechanism,
much like a weight or an anchor.

Observe too how it doesn’t remain
dark anymore quite as long

as it used to. By the time
you get up, which is still

early, unseen birds
have cranked up a body of sound

in the trees. From across the bridge,
you see white stenciled shapes

moving in shallow water.
One summer many years ago,

visiting your grandfather’s farm:
you stepped without thinking

in a humid mound of dung.
You’d stopped for a long moment,

just watching cattle egrets on the mud-
caked backs of water buffalo.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.