grandpa series (2)

grandpa,
going
out
to recieve the paper
found
a fallen bird
in the yard

it most resembled
an old
leather
shoe

green blades
each with a
single
sphere of morning
bowing over
it


in my pessimism,
they were
middle aged
rubber necks
each adorned in
a single diamond

in my better moments,
weeping
men
or
offerings or
monoliths

and lifting his head
heavenward

"lord, i will not die in your prison"

great wings
then burst
from
the flesh folds
beneath
his shoulder blades