Petrel

Saw her today
hunched
A grey fledgling against dull blue
And I thought she might be migrating
But then I saw there was no smile

And behind those grey walls the same color as her feathers
A wrench is heard
A deep crack
That thinks it is hopeless
The loss of hope that comes with
              forgetting

The fleeting moment
(And who remembers fleeting moments?)
The fleeting three moments she was alive
And her wings did not just flap
They pulsed with a gratitude and a sense of wonder
That the wings of her mother
        and her mother's mother
Are too tired to recall

Weak current
wafts as her wings just barely
keep her in the air, improbably suspended in the most natural way
And a song without words
                                       (nearly drowned out by the shrike of some predator)
Unwittingly keeps her afloat
Until the day when she is not just surviving,
But living
             --Until
she is flying.