.Peck Finch Mockingbird.
(rebirth of the egg and sky)

There are wing beats
and then there are WING BEATS,
you are both.

I hide you in trees
and see you in trees:
little black eyed glistens and a beak!

I used to have to kill spiders
but now I don’t have to kill spiders-
you eat them, don’t you?

Zebra mange-coat feather vein-
boo! I got you.
You no longer stripe the sky
because you flut about a cage,
sleep in a wicker basket.
One of your claws has detached,
I’ll have to let you die.

I keep the door closed
and the cat shut out-
The predators attic us.
Every second is an enemy as
I pretend I’m still a girl and
you lay tiny unfertilized eggs
while screaming at the sun.

When it happens you are still,
and still clenching your phantasmal claw
round a sanded pine bar.
I sprinkle you with kid tears and slivers of dill,
then comes the weight of the world.

ps-I hope the squirrels don’t scratch you up-
I should have sewn you into an egg
and buried you in the sky.





do tell, do tell my what you think.