A Love Letter To Margaret

Nowadays I'm awake before the light. My talons are sore with over-use. My beak is shattered in 3 places. My feathers, thank God, still look amazing. Though I've been flightless For four days now... Starting to see ghost worms. Hobbling around in the cold. Dark tunnels. Chewing on wet paper. I'm finished. Someone tell Margaret I love her. And that she was right. Those zooming beams of divine light Are not our friends.