I’ve come from rooms rimed with memories, come with a heart refusing gone, come to sit until it succumbs to this insistent impermanence, chiseled
In the night, in the wind, I search the roadside for white feathers glued to a leather mask, but the weeds and burrs won’t
I collect the feathers of flightless birds while you’re hypnotized by a wind turbine gently tumbling We study the body language of trees and