Wild Birds

I don’t want
To say goodnight

Or farewell,

I’m not finished
Worrying and

Toothcombing
The words

I’ve scattered
Across hours

And seen flutter
Like birds,

Flapping into grey skies

No longer trapped
In a thought,

Or caught in a pause

Where ancestors
Fought,

For the freedom
To say
The things
Once unsaid,

Or at least
Something shocking;

Then I remember my bed,

Dizzy from thinking
Of a thousand wild birds,

A flock of noise rising
And the things left unheard.

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