Skeleton Wings
Mary Elizabeth Birnbaum

Skeleton Wings

When I grow up, I would like
to be a skeleton. To study
the thickets of telephone wires
with their rows of birds perched,
studying me. One day, I will sigh
a solemn wind. Curtains will peel
back, all my windows will open,
I will be a glass of red wine
evaporating in a white room.
Through the windows of skeletons,
the waiting invisible tide, thick
opaque waters, grass skeleton waves
that we miraculously walk on,
we the living, our birds, our tongues,
lips, eyes, tiny eggs in their soft nests.
We hatch, we break open, singing
skeletons paused in cosmic roar.

Mary Elizabeth Birnbaum

was born, raised, and educated in New York City. She has studied poetry at the Joiner Institute at UMass in Boston. Her translations of the Haitian poet Felix Morisseau-Leroy have been published in Massachusetts Review, the anthology Into English (Graywolf Press), and And There Will Be Singing: An Anthology of International Writing. Her work is forthcoming or has appeared in Tipton Poetry Journal, Soundings East, I-70 Review, Ibbetson Street, Spoon River Poetry Review, and other journals.