Beautiful Bird

I've got a beautiful bird in my eye.
It won't take away the sun.
It won't save me from
infinite confessions or the distances
between one world and another's.
But, it is beautiful,
and this counts for much.
 
I look up from the shadows in my hands,
and this insanity gives me a glance
at its dappled feathers, lets me hear
its foggy screech. Wings clap
and bird feet spike the sky.
This won't speed the clouds further east
or get me a seat on the train.
But it is dangerous,
and this counts for enough.
 
I want to remember this,
not to make it more
important. Merely to make it
valuable. I will surely forget
this moment of having this
beautiful bird in my eye;
I have forgotten it
so many times already. But, it is
beautiful and counts for this
much.
 
Thus,
regardless of the truth of futility,
I will steal a piece of paper
and get this memory started
towards its eventual
and almost fragrant aphasia.



by jerry gordon
2008