Broken Wings

Across the air flew the sparrow
The tiny force of nature
Urgency in its wake
A dip across the water
the wing tip skims the surface
that ripple outs like whips unfurling
this sequential choreographic progression
like the petals’ little hands
reaching for the onset of morning
the water in the air lifts
as the smiling sun covers its face
the broken wings of dawn fade as the wind dies
the sun bleaches the landscape and sets the air alight
larger creatures unfold their limbs
and stumble into the business of feeding
this ancient industry erupts
features unfold and
memory comes into focus

the woman sits at the side of Monet’s moustache shaped bridge
and injects the accumulation of all this life into her new canvas