New Year’s Phoenix
This morn
Clatter the
blindsUp.
Slash open
The glistened glass.
Lean out
Into the wet fog.
Breathe spirit.
Exhale frost.
Climb onto
The cold sash.
Crouch on aching
Haunches and
Leap
To the swaying feeder.
Drink red sweetness
Into lesioned cuts
Until they glisten
And pinions
Sprout.
Ruffle,
Leap,
Dive over dry brambles.
Soar.
Wink crimson
Over gray thorns.
Pluck the horizon
Until
Saffron
Seeps
Through.
Lorie Ann Grover, 2016
