The Last Pair of Wings


shorn of wings
and the courage to fly.
hobbled by wounds
too distant and dry.
old pleasures seem jaundiced
through the light of his cage.
chemicals blur
the raw heat of his rage.

the ghost of a memory
can allow a weak smile
to push past the glaze
in his life-weary eyes.
but mostly, the poison
that comes with defeat
has eaten away
the crust of his dreams.

and he's grown
his last pair of wings.