the air is surely thick
with the ghosts of birds
the air is surely coloured by arc and
swoop
clouded by song and call
the earth is surely syruped
with birdblood
the earth is surely torn by talon and beak
and made ragged with soft feathers
the air is surely heated by their falling
and carcasses must nest
in the cool earth.
and with every breath
most surely, the ghosts
of birds