Bird burden

what a bird burden is this

a weight to bend feathers

to breaking point

to splintering like the shards of bark

peeling back against the wick

like fingers pulling back

from a dying love

and its cold here

it is so cold against these bones

that grind like stones

their screeching grumbling hate

the wind and i were lovers once

take the long way home love

the long way home

and on the slopes we would fly

wings and words and wind

and here i am

the wind is gone

slipped away with the scent of spring

I left my feathers along the slopes

dropping them one by one.

one does not ask the Fates

without a sacrifice.

so does he?

does he love me?

or does he not?

It is cold here

with these bones against each other grown.

It is a bird burden this.

to look at life alone.