That deceptive ease of floating, of flying, of leaving
& winging it back, of living rough, staying unruffled &
never once saying what you think. Of not thinking.
Do you know when I watch you preen your feathers,
I’m always thinking how soon you’ll disappear, I’m
already remembering the curve of your neck,
the trusting way you curl up when you sleep, already
practicing how to see you each wingless night.
— from Juniper Volume 5, Issue 3