Now and Then and When

If I had somewhere to go

I'd be there.

Only now is only now,

orthogonal to then 

orthogonal to when.

Not talkin' about the birds. 

Or am I?

The flutter of blue wings

and a quick peck and 

a red splatter on denim.

Birth.

Drop from the maple

in heavy august mist

and run to the cabinet

for the salve salve salve.

Death.

Feathers rise from the goop

and cycle of eggs and beak.

Past then tense and when future.

The clarity of a peacock

scratching the urban grit

of a granite window sill

is the only proof proof proof

of feathers and breath.

Now and then and when.

If I had something to say

I'd say it.