I don’t ask for much

because I can barely carry the things

I already have

and even if I lost everything,

I’d still have the burden

of trying to describe

why colors of the sky are enough.

I fear the answer is deep inside

a finger-string game

and that we’ve been bamboozled

by misdirection

of naughty birds

who show us rings and found words

so we’re carried away

into a beautiful and deadly chaos.

I think we forgot who we are.