new wings stitched

Stitching on the new wings

parallel to the permanent ones. 

a whole life

ripping new thread through the flesh

into the light framed, stained glass construct

what once were church windows

found abandoned, near the roads edge

what once contained so many plights

is now my tread

my traction through this ether.

existence shrinks

pales

mutes

down until the mason jar lid twists on

sealed

pulsing heartbeat audible

she stands there clutching you

every picture, every photo album

contained  

your glow illuminates the whole jar

green

illuminating the fringes of her cheeks

her dress, her high heels

captured

we see her. we stand watching through the museum glass.

within another jar Titanic enough

but small

light

enough to glide on musical notes

swift enough to escape

strong enough

to render bones

to carry the feathers

that carry the spirit of a bird

curious enough 

to fly

and escape this large round glass sculpture

Earth.