I pick up fragments
\non my desk,
\nlike lost little wild things.
\nLike Michael,
\nrestless,
\nnever content,
\na wild bird
\nin love with flying.
\nLooking for things
\nin the grass.<\/p>\n
Pouring sand in his trucks,
\nthe residue
\nfrom his tunnel to China.
\nNever content with what
\nhe finds.
\nExploring ceaselessly.
\nA wind
\ncircling every stone,
\nevery leaf,
\nleaving birds feet on
\nthe bleached shore
\nof the paper.<\/p>\n
The flashes of his smile
\nimpossible to cage.
\nThe hovering of his challenge
\nat the top of a slide.
\nFree,
\nas the freedom of a comet,
\nan impossible poem,
\nincandescence
\nexploding,
\nwith the wildness
\nof a joy
\ninside him.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I pick up fragments on my desk, like lost little wild things. Like Michael, restless, never content, a wild bird in love with flying. Looking…<\/p>\n