I tore the vine off the chimney,
\nan overgrowth of years,
\nstrand by strand,
\nthe venous structure of an aviary.
\nSparrow nests, dead grass,
\npieces of tinfoil,
\nlint of dust and concrete,
\nand the smell of musk.<\/p>\n
There were homes inside this debris.
\nI had waited.
\nYoung birds had to be raised,
\nshade was needed in the summer.
\nIn the fall,
\nshelter from the rain and cold.
\nI saw the birds come and go,
\nrearing their families,
\nsnuggling,
\ncalling out in the night.<\/p>\n
This was home,
\nperched on a cliff,
\na fall into the sea.
\nWhat was I to do?
\nTheir lives were clear
\nas the transparency of a pool,
\nthe sharpness of an iris,
\nthe sky where they never fell.<\/p>\n
Only I threatened them,
\nheld back by compassion, pity,
\nsomething that understood their lives
\nbut not its own.
\nAnd then,
\nin the spring,
\nbefore life renewed itself,
\nI struck,
\npulling the city to shreds,
\nleaving the stone bare,
\nand finished.
\nI went into my kitchen,
\nsipped coffee,
\nand wondered,
\nwhat is my destiny?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I tore the vine off the chimney, an overgrowth of years, strand by strand, the venous structure of an aviary. Sparrow nests, dead grass, pieces…<\/p>\n