“BIRD HYMN”

I wrote a poem I’ve been

dying to send you

I grieved you like I grieved

the other dead birds

though you were flightless

and had no feathers 

I wrote a poem I’ve been

dying to send you 

I placed lilacs on your grave 

it had cracks and no name

I sat on naked knees, wailed

so loudly it seemed silent

I wrote a poem, I’ve been 

dying to send you

I, black and lacy, waiting for your 

rotten star to appear in the sky

in that gothic winter landscape,

softly sang my bird hymn for you,

you who were never a bird,

but a winged stone.

M.L. February ‘25