I have nothing for you
except hollow bones
a secret void inside me,
watching the birds, waiting
envying them, hidden but close
living on another plane, not for us
we can't imagine what it's like
except I do imagine
the morning blush
waking me from dreams of flight
the brush of wet leaves
against silken feathers
I wouldn't care if they gave me a name
I'd know only the feel of my own song
warbling in my throat
and the color of dawn
rose and sherbet
I'd know the scent of rain
sweeping the forest clean
I'd know height and speed and freedom
and a solid branch
beneath clawed toes