Birdwatcher’s Elegy

it is an exceptionally hot summer,
and you and I watch
the lakes curl into themselves,
             echoing through fish scales
             and spanish-stacked tile

children are sitting at the water’s edge,
tracing letters on palms and
throwing their sun-soaked bodies
into the water

I have to tell you
I am uneasy in this space,
I do not know how to love
someone standing so close

I have torn out rib bones
and fastened them to wind chimes,
             I do not need them anymore,
             it cannot live here anymore,
instead

my grief sits in trees,
tied up in little red birds
among little green leaves

We are identical, you and I,
our throats are not meant
for living things
             they are only
echo chambers of birdsong

Lila Rosen (she/her) is a 17 year old poet from Norfolk, VA with a fondness for the mundane. She hesitates to define her writing as it changes constantly. You can find her on twitter @_lilarosen_