I thought of jumping into the fallen leaves of someone else’s trees

Walking around with a confession slipping from my lips 

In tiny utterances, remarks upon the past

Speaking to the Birds when I’m alone

On a park bench with a few crumbs to spare

Emotion in arrested motion, 

Telling me they can make a single man vanish out of thin air,

Chirping. I thought I saw you in a dream,

Chasing me down a circular street

The Birdsong of an old Blackberry, with no certifiable origin

      Calling: “don’t cry, don’t crumble!”

Then I saw a memory of your face in the clouds,

Contorting and distorting in the ether

You were caressing an empty holster, pulling scarves out of your mouth,

Contemplating the thunderbolt 

    you

              struck 

                         down

Just to remind me of your presence

Remembrance churning with fixation,

Speaking to the Birds and flirting with frustration

                                                      fly away?

Must I endeavor to let this memory 

              of  frenzied

   A flock  swarmed me,  Crows 

begging for stale baguettes

A sea of wings engulfing the picture I locked into the necklace 

You gave me; with entitlement, I brandished the bread knife

Who are you to say that I don’t need you in my life?