Kingfisher
Bolting from the undergrowth, gas flame blue
you tear into open space —
searing the daguerreotype trail
of your split-second determination
across the surface
of my gradually astonished eye.
Junornis
Rests,
between plate
and counterplate.
An ancient blossom
pressed
between shelves
and crumbled to nothing
by the first shocked breath
of discovery.
A callous annihilation,
even in light
of its accidental nature.
The bones
of those miniature wings,
unnaturally splayed—
the scrambled stalks
of a being
locked in its death.
Life
evoked only
in the gesture of flight.