My Winged Consort

life-size and maddeningly joyful -
winged consort, or a mockery of my desire?
sitting in my window, watching,
i wonder...

i wonder if you've been sent
to watch over me,

and to hold my spirits up

while i struggle with darkness.

and clash with the tautness

that is my limbs.

if you're chirping ceaselessly thus,

to offer solace

in the endless hours

while i quieten my demons.

the ones that keep slumber away

and bleak, damp anguish always at hand

breathing down my neck and choking out hope.

and i wonder if your fluttering wings

black, blue and white-flecked brown

lustrous, lively or ultimately illusory, 

flapping down, light and often -

on drying leaves and forgotten grime

are harbingers of freedom, or mere

farce - a bitter joke on this life

which weighs me down. trapping me 

in my curiously drab inability

to fly away from it all.

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