As people of distinction

flutter

In and out, in

and out like

so many owls.

I am the goose that carries their

dead I've a good

disposition, but

oh,

petty leverage!

Rodent fiends.

Would I trade a morsel

for a moment pursued?

Would I clip their

wings for mine,

Renewed?

Frail bundles.

Organic matter.

In and out, in

and out like

so many knots

tied and untied,

still smelling of sea.

You feathery tenants,

artisans of hate,

resting on the arm of man,

talons poised above the wrist.