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I am a bird.

by Aaron Blair

I am a bird,
mutated,
wings reptilian,
the feathers plucked
or forgotten altogether
by fickle evolution.
Or I would be,
if this body were not
packed so tightly
around a useless womb,
aerodynamics ignored.
To every organ its purpose,
the wet machinery of biology
dutifully soldiering on,
but no matter how I empty myself
I still can't fly.
I want to know why I am here
and what's this anchor
in my middle
refusing to let me leave.

01/03/2007

Posted on 01/04/2007
Copyright © 2024 Aaron Blair

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 01/16/07 at 04:16 AM

Fantastic, the descriptions are tactile, and so real I got chills and felt my feathers missing too.

Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 03/11/07 at 02:37 AM

Another awesome. Where have I been —having missed your poetry? I'm so glad I found you here. —J

Posted by Christina Butcher on 07/25/07 at 01:48 PM

i like this poem, but i don't think that the ending is quite as strong as the rest of the poem. cool concept, though, and i enjoyed reading it.

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