thick boned, strong footed
claws grasping like skilled craftsmen.
Wings overlooking their own shadows, the way I have yet to learn how Sweeping above and below, sweeping all that slumbers or wallows.
Cleansing into one another,
waning and waxing like self-lit moons, tugging at effervescence, their own and that of the day.
The tree which they called theirs alone was wrestling with them, their feathers and her branches
like teenagers tangled and undone by their own wind.
This went on until each four-nailed toe was content
in what it grasped.
There is no rest for the weary
but there is always solidarity.
I awoke thinking of all I love and therefore hurt inevitably
and all that return the favor.
-from Love and Fate
painting by Eleanor Hazard