neighing
requires
the full lung capacity
of that yellow horse
bellowing
at this altitude
barking across
cellophane skies slipping loose
at the edges
his cough wrung
from the new sun like
pebbles peppering my window
coaxing me
to the balcony
chilled air thick
with snow fog
where I finally glimpsed
that ticking bird
all week I had heard
her clicking
her siren tapping
scattering the dead fields
had yearned to see
those hidden wings
so coy
it shattered the dim
so fleeting
Carrie Nassif is a poet, photographer, and a clinical psychologist in the rural Midwest. Her work can be found in Wordpeace, Typoeticus, Creating Iris, Pomona Valley Review, and occasionally at monstersofourowndestiny.wordpress.com.