up in sun-
sizzled buds
of vermilion,
the delirious grackles'
strident singing—
out of hunger,
out of lust,
out of anger
and mistrust—
about how nothing
has been known
that hasn't also once
been lost,
I'm reminded
of a unfound time
before my avian
soul disembarked
when I knew
life on Earth
was a circumference-
less circle;
every cry was urgent
at its infinite center—but
none of them was
controversial.
