I found him at the top of the stairs
without a head.
It was a clean break, no sign that it had ever been there
and though his face was gone
his body lay in a pose of accusation
making me the guilty one.
I wrapped him in brown paper
and threw him into the woods
while the rain burned down my back
and ate my spine;
I could hear him in the dead leaves, singing
his wings or his still heart beating
the low bass notes of life.