listen -- the swans have so much to say
watch them circle
as the morning dark slips away
but what do we know
of the garden at night
we cannot read the silhouettes
tell drunks from other seekers
tell a magpie from a rook
or read lips beneath the stars
it is an indifferent and exhausted host
that would let black feathers
pelt its guests from dusk to dawn
as greyscale rainbows
pour heavy colossal massive from the sky
we cower beneath benches
plotting to open the cages like tall sunshine
send those peregrines out of place
let parakeets preach to anyone who will listen
and anywhere they sow their colors
to bloom and rot and bloom again
would be home to me
bannered with the feathers of my countrymen
these roaming songbirds
speak to augurs in jabberwocky jibberish
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