under the salmon egg,
my feathered coat boasts
a blaze kindled by
speckled wingspan.

my plumage hugs the wind,
vaulting my frame towards
the Celtic tapestry above.
swept by the bends, my

verve steeps in red euphoria–
a hearth snaking through
new latitudes.
at the zenith,
my sharp wings
pierce the yolk and

stain the sky with streaks
of molten orange.
but i had wandered into the
doldrums' sway.

my grasp of Up no longer firm,
gales tatter my wings and
smother my dancing pyre into
ash.

a clumsy feathered comet–i
plunge towards the sea
corkscrewing aimlessly while
tears skate off my sloped beak.

the world twirls like the
wind around me,
my flipbook neck
gyring through salty air.

but the water doesn't
swallow me. white caps look
on as i drift East–
licking jagged rocks that
toe the feet of the bluff.

over groves of buckthorn i flail,
a white horseshoe hurtling
towards a naif mariner.
with the snape of my nape,

i hook around his own:
a gorgeous
lame
beached necklace

as he gazes at the egg
sinking below the cliffline,
my eyes turn green to
match his.