Cockatoo

At last he descends, white bird

ablaze against the blue: late

afternoon aerobatics

show, and all for free.

Below

I lie in shadow, outstretched;

tethered by twisted roots of

thought, and sunk to ground.

Above

he somersaults, aerial

artist busting wilder moves.

I watch, pinned down, breathing through

my off-beat heart, a stutter

muttering darkly in my

chest.

While still he soars

higher.

Drawn by his flight,

I

fall

free.