Bundled, trussed and wrapped
In wool, feather and fleece
Tight. Skin a flag of pursed pores
Waiting to fly and unfurl
A freckled release.
I have x rayed these bones for what
Seems like millenia. A fossil in the mud
Of three hundred sleeps
Soon, please, they will unroll and realign
Recognize I am newly awake, like the world.
Ok, it’s a poem and I am not a poet. Be kind now.