the humming bird

the sky was there — distorted

at the edges

but there

clear crystal blue

~

his wings burned

his mind locked

he battled the Plexiglas sky

~

over and again

his head bumped

hoping

for an improbable escape

~

I was afraid

his death

would stain my hands

like black pitch

~

I saw his obsession

lying to his wings

each invisible beat

bringing him closer

~

his truth needed to be told

the sky needed to lie

~

it was up to me

to eclipse the sun

~

transform

his reality

to a phosphorescent bullet

shooting into a summer’s day