Bird droppings

I feel the soil between my toes.
The sand in my hair and wings.
The brilliant light shines before me
I face it without turning or running.
My bosom rises as I draw breath,
my lungs fill with air.

I am alive.
I have fallen.
I trod upon the earth.
My now-black wings dark against the sun.

No more will I fly in the sky
disjoint from all that is below.
I'll live in the mud
and here make my home.