the fluttering wings are
beating against my fingers
thump, pound
i did not think songbirds could be
quite this loud
it is safe, in my hands
i know
i am kind
i will not allow it harm
but the pulsing insists
it must come out
it must be free to sing
it must be free to
open these wings
and i know, the world
is not always so safe
there are so many ways
we may not be saved
so i am cupping this
fragile bird
extending its
finite time
but it does not belong here
it is not mine
so gently, i open
my hands
and the beautiful creature takes
a moment to
understand
before it is in flight
and i am in fright
because this is now entirely
out of my control
and yet
there is song
this is now
very likely
to go wrong
still, there is song
when the words are
cramming my brain
and the ink of the pen
is aching for the kiss of my page
i am, sometimes
a little afraid
once i let them out
i am no longer
in control
this could go wrong
but i read them back
and i find song
i think it was here, all along
i think, sometimes
things need
the chance to go wrong.
12:25pm - 10/11/26.