Paper Birds

A bluebird’s carcass lays on
the side of the road and I
watch the slow progression
of another summer gone by.

Gusts of wind whip through
the barren branches of trees,
without making a sound. I
stumble over my own feet.

What if we could freeze-frame
the memories of this little bird?
Could we collectively share
them into a final embrace?

Cruelly I surrender to the task
of burial. Cruelly because it’s
so final, the tragedy of death,
of grief.

What if George Floyd’s memories
hadn’t faded? What if kindness
shut out the clouds? What if
sunshine fell upon the lid of

the coffin? What if the blindfold
was removed from our eyes?
What if love turned into rain?
Electric currents of spiritual energy,

Paper Birds

warms the dampness, brightens
the darkness, ends the story,
with the promise of a new
beginning.