Crazier Than Birdsong
There were days
when my ribcage
housed hummingbirds
but they’re long gone now
having died or fled;
all death is fleeing
and often there is
no apparent cause
I listen to the
sounds lost into the city
and it is
crazier than birdsong;
I manage a smile
and walk on
I think of my escape bone
it’s in there somewhere
lodged in the back of my head
between the unpaid bills
and the singing terror
I take flight and swear I see
a hummingbird.
Copyright © Samuel St. Clair | Year Posted 2012
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