Radioscope

On top of a bench
on top of a mountain
wishing I could fly.
Just like that bird of prey,
lofting with his time,
surveying, swooping
in for the kill.

I’d give up all the rest for that.

You talk about disembodied
spirits and flying dark and
white energy, polar light
stark, embattled - not
muddied as I
prefer to interpret.

Yonder, there is a radio-
tower man with a
scope of some sort.
I wonder if he is
aware that the condor
flies and vice versa
that the man radioscopes.

Tumbling down a hill these
days, I think about birds and
words much more
than I think about silly
afterlife theories.