Leda
Alison Stone
Babies need love
so I loved her
but she was a cold child,
all gold hair and entitlement,
stamping her majestic feet.
No surprise she made a nation burn.
I live a constricted life,
head down, jumping at shadows.
There are so many birds in the world.
Though I put out poisoned seed
to thin the flock, they find me
even in winter, even in sleep.
Dreams of beating wings,
the smother of feathers.
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