Fearfully made

There are pieces of me

on the moon

and on the mountain

and floating with salt in the sea.

I’m never complete

because I have bits of fluff

feathering birds’ nests

and stuck inside the railing

of a high-rise fire escape.

I search horizons for colors

to add to my fading eyes.

I listen intently to wind

to learn the oldest songs.

There are memories of me

in a displaced book and

foraging fingers.

I am nowhere special

and no one to hold tightly.

My tethers are loose

and I will fly most quietly.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s