The Roosevelt Bridge spans across
the hook of Lake Union, where
boats pass lazily below and crew captains
shout out from megaphones; and
from the sidewalk as cars race by
I see two birds, small and dark,
dive off of a streetlight--bodies like bullets
racing to black waters, disappearing from sight.
They threw their wings wide, I think
(not knowing for sure as they danced below my view)
catching the air and locking wings in a partnership
untouched by time.
We could be those birds, if you would
touch your wing to mine--I offer
nothing more than my everything.
My bones, my feathers, my small bird heart.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
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This reminds me of a love haiku I wrote in 9th grade about two lovebirds sitting in th distance and feeling jealous of them. Of course Ms Snyder read it aloud to the class and I was forever ashamed.
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