95/365: Bird Revelation
I see a long-legged bird in the dirt lot next door
when my mind drifts outside in the afternoon.
He's made of dried puddles and foundation,
but he's a revelation every time,
like those visions of Jesus in pancakes or wall mould.
From the way he looks up and far away,
it's obvious he dreams of flight,
but being a revelation doesn't go far
when you're a flightless bird made of mud
and your singular witness
refuses to believe.
I am writing one poem every day in 2016, and I am using the hashtag #365poems to document my progress.