the secrets out with a bird song.
this morning rose like a sunset
and everyone agreed that
something was ending.
and a red breast robin sat
high in a tree, preened his morning
coat, looked down on the world.
imagined himself a hawk.
and there’s a child outside my
door, begs to come in because
I haven’t smiled in some time,
and he misses kite flying.
and everywhere quiets slowly,
imagines itself somewhere, the
sun imagines itself a moon, this
hand imagines yours.
but nothing flies today, the
robin does not fly, the kite
does not fly,
and in a dusk down field
a hawk kills his prey.
Ben Paynter
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/and-all-the-king-s-horses-and-all-the-king-s-men/
