Bluebird floating
blue across the redlands–
when did I become

isolated? You said
I had a home
to sleep, I just had

to ask but
I would never– except
I did the night we shot

arrows across your
driveway, my quivering
aim missed the tree

and nearly pierced
a squirrel’s eye–

(originally published in The Wayward Sword, Summer 2018)