she did it the same, based on a feeling,
shunned the possibilities, forgot their name—
and here I am a ship wrecked of its heading,
curious of a gravity to have me sink.
I am the great Egret great its flight,
and cut through the winds of today;
made rich are the clouds cascading their white,
and thundering are the clap of my wings in air,
till I land through the earth and lift up the dust,
and whisper through her endless vibrations.