as troubles hatch
amid the wild squawking & clucking of the world
the sky is assuredly falling
& it looks for certain
that most of us have lost our ability to fly
despite having bones as light as wind
although we may peep & preen like new-born chicks
scales & claws will eventually take over
ensuring our bodies never catch up with our heads
& we may never stop
piling our hopes in a single basket
or counting dreams before they’re hatched
for it’s trickery that fills the nesting box
while mothers mourn their stolen eggs
& we destroy the near-by with beady-eyed determination
for we all carry traces of the forest
as we scratch in the dirt
& find our way home
where broody for cracked seeds of past & future
we hide from Fox & seek out Fire
hoping to simmer tough old hearts tender once again
