I AM NOT THE RAVEN
for Nicole
pleasure forsaken, I turn inward;
no hearth of refuge calls me home.
corralled like a tired calf, I surrender
to thoughts I thought dormant.
where are you? I cry, over and again
until my lips are chapped.
I am not the raven, nor the eagle,
wing'd to wait out this storm above
its insistent lightning. you betrayed my heart;
can I forgive you?
this is a matter of fire; my head is on fire,
my hair flaming and my eyes sparking
at every word you should have said.
a pool of feathers at my feet:
I am molting as the weather changes,
but my freedom is ahead,
my nest below, and I will fly.
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