In Singapore a green bird sat in the gutter, still as humidity.
One wing had taken flight, leaving the other alone and wanting.
Birds calling down above me, but this one
Had sung it’s last song.
In Singapore I am upside down
And whirl in circles like double samaras,
Thankful for the lost cool wind that finds me.
Now i am in the gutter looking up, like Wilde,
Absorbing the stars as they call to us,
Me and the broken green bird.
Come to us and shine a light for someone you love
They say.
There’s no need for wings anymore,
In Singapore.
Photo by Rick Robinson. Used with permission.
Rick Robinson is SVP of Product for on-demand roadside assistance startup Urgent.ly.
in Poetry
