gate 2

i’ve come across a ruin
a wren’s nest abandoned
in this swirl of twigs a crib
a wizard’s hat of tree to crown
the sidewalk meeting pedicured bush

what rituals did the wings make
beaks dipping into its dark
if i could sing you to sleep
with their mythologies
archaic empty cords this twine

how the falcons returned
and what dullness these night suns
mean lining the hard ground
where the other small lights
carry other sobs
other angers into the wild

i catch my hair in my shoelace
bending over to touch it
this machu pichu and the wind
weaves just so
just so tonight
dad i thought i heard your voice

it would have been your birthday

in the hollow archeology
i promise not to stay
in the celebration much longer
i’m trying to catch the dialect
record its ritual whispers
before it’s lost

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