Breath of Bird

in pours poor sparrow to perch
on the arch of a man’s

bill full of mush once
lush bundle of

plucked from soils of jade
meadows, wilted by
the time moon
turns over

in sea flush with cotton sheets-
a star splashed screen
softly lowers.

both eyelids drawn, i hum same song
the sparrow taught me

before she up and blew away
with candle’s

and all the lessons
love never

Grumpy Gorman

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