they land so easy,
easier than me
or this love
or past loves.
they land on collar bones,
couples that make me jealous,
on fragile wrists
lined with plenty of little branches
to call them to shore.
and when there's nothing to land on
i'm convinced the sparrows
will fly to forever,
finding a safe place
for our hearts to go to
to wait out the storm.
they will sing life
into our prayersongs,
breathe under our wings
and dare us to fly, too.
they are not swallows
or doves
they will not gulp down our grief and insecurities
and bring them back
as moonpearls.
but they dance on air
like dandelions
on a sunbaked sidewalk
to the tune of the ghettos.
they carry dreams to
the lost at home,
fly out with a last hope.
with so much,
you'd think gravity would
take hold and send feathers
tumbling beak over tail
over heavy hearts.
© 2009 Marcea L. Brown. All rights reserved.
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