Kintsugi Song

Can you not hear her 
cracked wing?  Music wrenched 
from song's beak, she is trying
to feed closed-eyed

She slides along broken
boughs like violin quivers
worm-wriggled and brambled
to the place the nest rests.
Soundless, somehow, she


and notes float, open-
beaked, gulping gold-filled 
scars.  Stitched back 
into careful trill 
her bowed wing

Kathleen Klassen