crust of bread

will you fly
for me?

in all of the least
impressive faux pas
of your over-long life
we see a pattern

leaves yearning
to return
to their trees

you take a triumphant step
upward
on the road
to wherever you think
you need
to be going

the next step
is the final, irreversible
end

the next,
your redemption

we cannot count
the number of times
we have fallen

cannot measure
the desire for falling
the regret,
the redressing

and in the midnight
crumbling,
we crawl on shattered knees
toward something resembling
a true need

will you fly
for me?

pretty bird
you always return
always see it through

don't be hard on yourself
like all the rest
you were always
her favorite