The unseeing waxwing which once was slain <br />By the false azure of the windowpane <br />Has picked up his shadow and carried on <br />Past the wilderness of that crystal lawn. <br /> <br />Drunk on berries, he had mistook the glass <br />For the heavens through which once he had passed; <br />The reflections of the cerulean sky <br />Formed a mirage that fooled the waxwing’s eye. <br /> <br />Fallen then back to the snow-covered ground, <br />Become silent with nary chirp or sound, <br />The stilled bird lay bleeding upon the white, <br />Unmoving still as day turned into night. <br /> <br />Thus I rose to the place where once I saw <br />The waxwing race through the bleak ice’s thaw. <br />I took in my hands that form without breath <br />And cast it high, that it see not death.<br /><br />Cody Simpson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-waxwing-slain/
