Egghead
Published in Guernica
He leaned against the wall
And considered the shadows
Stippling the ground. Tree? Silo?
They were hard to tell between
For the cracks in his spectacle.
He tried to wiggle his toes.
No luck. Then he remembered
That he couldn't remember
If he had toes. What a relief.
Was that thunder? He could taste
Something yellow in his mouth.
That roar? Cavalry? Am I thief?
Candleberry ran the wall.
He felt a tickle in his throat
And pulled out a black feather.
He looked up the willow for
Bird, and began a shudder.