goodbye my muse
as the air rushes out of me
like Ovid's women
I must run
to escape those eyes
that pierce all I am
hawk like fury
give me time to recover
as I am so transformed
time feels endless
would I fall to water
or to air
winged my way home
to find all shelter gone
and I am branched on that tree
one sight turned
one sight inward

-the corbyhawk