There is a great dark bird
And its feathers are made
Of every day
When love was scarce
And safe was just a steely locked place to hide my heart in.
The dark bird's oldest feathers
Are rooted deepest.
They are named:
Always, when I feel worst,
I know the dark bird is there, like a curse,
Whose obsidian heart does not beat at all.
I am her baby.
God have mercy.
One moment, I may be laughing with a lover in bed,
And the next,
I find she is sister to the dark bird,
And I wish I was dead.
Doing the right thing
Doing the wrong thing
Just to keep the dark bird away.
I know the dark bird.
She has spread her wings across and above me
Like an un-sun.
She has left her mark across my heart,
And she has called me her child,
Though I fight
Though I run.
Be respectful, as if you were entering a church.
And if you find me laughing,
If I say to you, I love you,
Stay with me...
There is no need for reproach.
My own raised and forgetful voice,
The very noise of my own momentary happiness,
Will wake the bird
And she will carry off hope in her talons
Which are called: