april’s fool
scraping ice from a windshield
in the dark cusp of dawn
red-winged blackbirds
flash neon signs
in hopes of feed and sun
three days ago
i watched a hawk
murder a grackle
(never forget to keep an eye
on the sky)
i whisper
and begin walking south
as the silence of north
calls me home
each step a false migration
blurring line
between time and design
a march of soldier
armed with rhyme
and stubborn pockets
leaking trails of sanity’s
seed
