This morning at the
window, white crane on green palm
taking flight into
a greater greenness.
A rock-face sky fractured by
possibility.
Tribal thump
of poem-heart. Frantic pulse
of phloem. A bird
unpinioned from starched
metrics. And I from gridlocked
opinion. Between
us, just this thinnest
skin of disbelief, almost
vanquishable. Al-
most vanquishable.
Almost.