There are birds inside the calliope I said, when we ran away To see if the sea Breaks like glasshouses Throwing stones With that sideways trebuchet Skipped, skipped, subsumed You bent, bird-quizzically In your throat That inchoate swallowing Of disbelief I said; look there Above the rising Brass of morning Pipes rayed like the sun If you turn, just one step away Let go my hand The stone still falling See them fly
