Poem: History of Wings

 

History of Wings

 

i sleep in the same bed

my brother slept in

before he took his life away,

 

it has been years

 

and only now i wonder

on what i so seldom sensed,

these spirits invisible,

 

a history of wings

 

so rapt and generous

to usher and engulf me

in long splendid journeys,

 

redolent troubadours

on distant, half-seen hills,

who reach out with warmth,

 

and spread me to feel pain.

 

and yet i float,

i bathe in the heartful magnetism,

connections living yet lost,

 

when home.

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