You are so light,
your bones must be hollow
like a bird’s; if only you could fly,
but you are not ready to take to air.
You are more suited to swimming
in the salty sea from which you were
so rudely delivered yesterday.
Your skin is translucent like wings
of a butterfly as you lie pinned
behind the glass wall of the nursery.
I think you would fly, if only
you weren’t tethered by all this technology
and so many prayers.
No comments:
Post a Comment