early bird

a bird sings

in the black sky

the moon

a yellow cat's eye.

i've spent the evening being swallowed,

growing old alone

and terrified

of seeing spirits 

seeing skeletons

ignoring the gift 

my mother and i share

of seeing past 

your blinking eyes

holding our hands open,

i never tell you what I see

it would kill us both.

the bird whistles

"come here, 

come here,

come here."