Runaway Swan Song

Runaway Swan Song (By Cat Matchuk)

Although I haven’t climbed these stairs in years
they always sound the same
under my feet.
Creak and splinter
in the same spots.

Piles of photographs are stacked tall,
layers of earth
threatening to fall –
always threatening to fall.

If not today, then another day,
or another.

Although I fear death, I reach out despite myself,
conflicted.
Feathers appear when angels are watching over you,
What do I want?
End it.
wait
a feather floats down

This is not poetry

There is no flow

It’s multiple gunshots of words
piled up and stacked tall,
threatening to fall –
always threatening to fall.

I will fall, if not today, then another day,
or another.