He stands one hundred feet above ground,
on top of some
perched on the edge
His Arms bend in wicked ways, and
somber feathers tear
from porous skin,
His head crushes to be no bigger than
than a palm; a crooked beak
replaces the nose and lips;
his eyes worm to where
the temples were.
Legs break into place, toes
stretch, and from the back of the heel
pulls another toe; armed to carry
his small weight, and long body.
and permitting the wind to
guide him home;
all that remains
are shoes and tattered feathers.