Sometimes a part of
me has fallen on
the ground and I
do not notice until
it’s gone, gone so long
that I don’t remember
having it except
that I’m sure
that something must
have been there. I can’t
recall at all. And
then I test my
wings against the
breeze, bright
sun a golden
coin in the
morning. Flex
my wings against
the sky. Stretch
my hands into
the light. Move
my soul against
my fate. Blink
blink...it’s all
gone again
like so many
gnats against
the moon.
Gone, gone
like love
like memories
like time
all gone.

                AcB 11.28.98