You broke against
The window pane
Learning to fly.

Jumbled jackstraw
Wings, falling
In crumpled silence.

We watched from
Gilded perches,
Glass boxes soaring high

We who have learnt
To fly, who fear
Your vitiating eye.

Then turned our backs,
Time fluttering
On the cold stone step.

All that remains now
Is your oily
Smear on glass,

Waiting for rain.

Simon Denegri
August 2019