THE AVIARY

by Joanna Gilman Hyde

The Hawk Portico 2:10pm

I live in a spring-sung aviary

— it has no cage —

I sleep to the peepers

birds mark the day

they have no boundary

but the shore beyond

I live My Life in sustenance

long past the unsung

chapters I wrote

devoted to loss —

now I am here

with wings

as My Cross