late

the late it came, too late
to catch the moment
already broken – the flecked wing
it shimmered blue
struck out silver-bent
along poetic lines the
songbird's lonely call
we saw the mountain fall
against the light, so blinded
by the sun we wept, placed lips
beside our fist shaped hearts
poured hope into chalices
and drank to quench our thirst
so we can breathe
to breathe
and breathe