A rain falls
The Iris orchids are pruned into swallows
Tail is also an alias
Needle and thread pass through the canopy of the sky
The heads led by telegraph poles
Why carry mud in the beak?
The wet soil becomes soft between the beaks
Before a sentence is finished
Time disperses like birds and beasts
The shadow leaves the body first
At dusk
It perches on my ribs
Like a nail hammered into the chest
The mud-built nest shatters
Spring breaks out of its shell