A screeching, pissed-off bird, beating
its wings, a bird from Hell, or
somewhere close, trailing pinions of
a shriveled bird, wrapped in the past,
neither falcon nor eagle nor sparrow hawk,
a bird with hollow doubt eyes.
A dangerous bird rising, calling
into the future, a bird looking
on, its rusted eyes in the past. A
bird divided, and a bird joined.
A bird for every rise and a bird for
every fall. One bird, one hope.