wrapping them in tissue
and packing them away in this
shoebox from the first heels I ever wore.
(No one told me that I was supposed to check
and see if they would leave you taller than me.
How was I supposed to know?)
One winter I found a cardinal's feather.
It was the greyest day
with the pavement half-melted
and the clouds uneasy in the wind
crouching against the horizon.
I found it on a last mound of snow
half buried and I was afraid
that the bird was still there
curled beneath the cold like an ancient king
waiting in his icy barrow.
It is the only red feather I found.
There was the one from the beach
and the sparrows that built their nest
above my window left a handful as a gift.
The box is almost full.
I gather my secret treasures
from under the bed and slip outside.
It is almost time.
One by one I lift them out
and lay them along the wire frame.
The clock flips on through the minutes
and I am almost ready.
the cardinal feather at the very tip
and the time is right.
So I light each birthday candle
that I have saved from each sparkling cake
making the last wish of all as the wax drips free.
I made these wings for you.
Don't fly away from me.
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