it drifts through the sky
unnoticed just one feather
a thin blade of gray and white
severing dreams strung across the alley
with the edge of its fall
those below turn in brief restlessness
and when they walk the streets
finding the colors of their night
thrown into the art of a wall
or pasted with the signs upon a pole
leaving them vaguely anxious and uneasy
without knowing why
the bird wheels and turns overhead
I do not fear the monsters of this world.
I have long familiarity with these.
Depression, anxiety, and their coterie
Have almost been my family.
I dwell in comfort with such dark beasts.
What has the ability to undo me entirely are the beings of light:
Kindness, consideration, and their kin.
The afflictive malfeasants offer predictable torment
That at times seems almost a shelter.
I can hide with them from myself and the world.
Venturing into lambency that flickers with uncertainty
I find an often frightening task.
To see others is one thing;
To be seen in turn unsettles me in the extreme.
Still I take up this challenge,
With the words of Aeschylus giving me strength.
And the company of monsters ever at hand.
