Sunday, November 1, 2015

lament


my mate..
my mate for life has gone..
gone the way of the deceiver's call
in the early soggy wet of duck morning..
though he has offered his shimmer feathers
his meat
his wing
for the nourishment of another -

& i praise him for that..i do..

my mate for life
is gone



what the hen must feel
when her drake does not return..?
we humanoids say that animals /birds/ insects
are not the feeling type..
how is it we know this?

i look at the yes of a bird,
the eyes
and i am seeing back to myself..

yes..we are feeling..
our small hearts skip a beat..
the weighty life of loss
makes our wings burdensome ~
flight is not a soaring
with our true companion gone..

i know this ..
i know this from my own wing ~
my own lonely wing..

exaltation for all souls all saints 
all ducks & all hunters of ducks


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