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So, sorry to get right into it, but I worked late tonight and have to get to the teaching in the morning, so I’m just going to spill it. I’ve been thinking of my brother’s best friend, Sonny, who died when the plane he flew collided with a mountain, lately, mostly because of all the summertime air traffic. I’ve poemed about him once before, I think, but I’m going to do it again because it is what is true. When I first learned of his passing, I listened to this song on repeat, and I don’t know why. It’s a beautiful song, but I think the reason I listened to it over and over was because my first introduction to it was this youtube video, with the song playing over video of Sally Rand dancing with these amazing wings. The way she moves them in this footage, the exuberance and angelic (or slightly devilish) glee those wings take on, just remind me of him, somehow. Here it is:

So, tonight, a poem for a

Bird of Cuzco

The wind, the way it was blowing. The peaks over Moiese are a fitting place for a spirit such as yours to return to the spirits, though us, mere mortals, were not ready. Flight is the only fitting way for a guardian of light to die; it makes the most sense of stupid tragedy and burned up necklaces. If only everyone had, just once, felt the freedom in those wings, scintillant and buoyed by updraft, wouldn’t we have flown too? This bankrobber spirit of yours, no, the Robinhood spirit, does it live still, there in the rock and burnt earth, covered over in the green moss? Do you look out from that grey rock and see the bison as your brothers, now? What are the questions asked of this, when the brightlit are taken from us? Only one. Just why, and why, and why.

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That was hard to write, and not in a good way. Stupid planes. Happy Sunday, my poemfriends.

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