views of a goldfinch

perched at the crest of the pyramid

bird croaking and twiddling manus

in the plainest of deserts, it calls out

to the words and one above.

cleopatra is only met with confusion and a crown

as the bird is perched so happily

waiting for the bread to fall

and the still water to flow.

the bird may sing as it will

or may be still as a branch

in the drought of shrivelled nothings

and the passing tumbleweeds.

warble, cheep

it will soon speak

but bird needn’t be mistaken

and look below, foolishly

where only its gangly two feet lie.

keep your beak up where you cannot see

and, blinded by the suckling quenching

hear the sun whisper its sweet everything.

this is where the leaves do not live

and where the sand does not speak;

where mystery is answered

by the things we cannot see.