Man Room

I was misled by an evening
to believe
that my night
to a room belonged.

When every bird in the sky
had found a nest to rest
a branch to perch
and wrap the evening in its wings.
Snuggling on my bed
cushioned into a blanket
its estrus fit into my breath
filling a haptic gaze into the night
moving from crest to crest
sleep to dreams to wakeful eyes
to early mornings and bird songs again
only to know one day for me will end
in a nest.

~ A