John Darnielle [c. 1997]
You came down from heaven to the branch outside my window.
Your feathers were the color of snow.
The dice were loaded against us ever seeing each other,
but one of us had nowhere else to go
In your eyes were all the colors that the rainbow forgot.
Your wingspan was four foot wide or better.
With your voice practicing notes from time's own beginning,
you took apart the alphabet, letter by letter
And here, where it all stops for good,
where the cool waters run,
thought I saw a mouse kicking in your beak,
it was only a skeleton
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