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I watch the sky turn–pale blue
laughing pink—then a purple so deep
it cuts wounds in my eyes.
the moon hangs above it all in
an attempt illuminate the colors,
somehow unaware it has actually
created them.

I am going to somewhere—
for the first time in a long time.
heading in a direction, flying
over colors of clouds like a bird.
and when I finally perch you
will be there, like a swallow,
waiting for me to return.

the more the distance closes
between our wing span,
the brighter the moon hangs
on the bow of this carrier of
people. so bright in moments,
I can’t close my eyes for fear
it will only burn through and
leave me blind in my turning

in a few hours, we will have landed.
together. and separate.
and I can’t wait to feel your hands
on my feathers and to see the new
colors that have appeared in
your molting. we rise and fall
together now. tumble and roll.
flight and release.


Categories: Poetry

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