i will sing to you.  pieces of music
that never existed.  a falling stone.
a cracked bell. feathers catching a wind.

there will be a parade to celebrate.
the frayed edges.
the dead marching in half syllables.

drumbeats will tear the bright world to shreds.
swallows dropping from the eaves like plums.
leaves falling wet with worry for the last time.

i will search for you. a dark shadow
within a shadow. miles of air around you.
trees waving their uncertain arms.

the package of my body.
tapping an erratic rhythm.
a tender shell meant to open.

we are both half blind. you and i.
birds vanishing behind the hills.
the curve of a breast that invented breathing.

the white wind thrashes a tree's silhouette.
snow tumbles down.  a dead weight.
no music.
no parade.
no drums.
no shadows.
no shell.
no breast.
no birds.

no sound.
static wingbeats broken in mid-flight.