2006/pain

I hear the
morning birds
through the pain
my body feels.
Birds. Pain.
Each with their
own rhythm
and pulse.
Cool air on my
bare arms,
I’m grateful
for that,
and for the cawing
crows crowding
out the song
birds,
competing with
the barking dog
down the street.
As the pain
pushes all
other sensation
from my flesh,
except the cool
morning air
on my arms and legs,
mid-July.
I’m grateful
for that.

7/18/06