Languid, rolling waves of a longing wink
rest at the bay of a tempered sunrise.
Blackbirds swarming in droves call out
the names of a long forgotten fairytale.
A Darwinian epic of animism, that
while reading spreads like a stretching palm,
they fly; each rigid, osteosized digit
fluttering in an oblique symmetry.
In the sunrise that is warm,
warmth can be felt only at
some patient and gradual distance,
embodied in a flock of continual repetition.
An archaeological record, soaring off
in this second, mirrors a time before.
The tendency of anatomical features…
and are we foam in the rolling waves?