Patricia’s Poetry and Fiction

Holladay Park

Birds will mate on the thinnest
of wires
excited electrons flowing
in the grip of their feet
branch across
the grey dead
asphalt stream
how many eggs balance
in the cavity of her center
how many
failed embryos will fall
how many will
grow molecule by molecule
into a shape
with hollow bones
living flutes
flying songs

row of changelings
low wall roosting by the MAX
last free stop on the line
lift claws
toward passengers
who divide
and flow
around their obstruction
unmindful of the balance
and how easy it is
to fall
from low perch
to lower
who would dare mate
on the wide berth
of this wall
in full view
of the closing doors
and what would exit
from that wound
a full-grown sore
with bloodshot eyes
still pregnant
with song

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