a crooked wing

i ascend with a crooked wing
that dangles against
my back

its feathers limp
and crushed
with bonemeal

its tendons snapped
and sticking
to my shoulder blades

my other wing is dipped in blood
but beats the air
into mere ripples

as i surge with
copper between my teeth

and red staining the corners
of my eyes

i ascend despite a crooked wing

© 2016 Stellular Scribe