Feather

Another bird wearing

a prayer on each feather

 

Just like a dream,

but here I am in a seedy hotel bed,

another paper cup of bitter brown,

a tear in each pull

 

I used to lock fingers with the oak

in our front yard.

Today I locked eyes with that chesty hawk

and then with that wine-stained woman

wearing three decades of grief

 

She gave me six years with her stare

and I held her gaze like the oak

held my hand before I knew

how to hold my own

 

Now I hold my own

so I can hold hers, too

 

1-13-2019