Caution went wrong.
The swallow's eggs had hatchedin the mud hut under my eaves
already their chirp
had marked the dawn.
From the wilderness
they brought
the whisper
of the wild
holding the measureless
in their beaks.
They made the hard days
a little less hard. At night
they snuggled
up next to me
as if
they were
my home, my family.
They had wings
so I caged them in caution,
fed them maybe-laters
and their dawn trill
silenced soon
leaving behind
a nest of dust and feathers
as if
I
starved to death my younger selves
that came
from a life
I might have lived.
Poetry by yoonoos peerbocus
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Written on 2025-09-15 at 01:35
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