Skinned knees don’t leak like BP
from a loose cap in the Gulf Sea
Turtle hairs do not wash up in surf of bruised patellas
and gulls do not lose the individuality of feathers
when you somersault backwards on concrete.
Your body does not lose its dignity when you collide
after twirling through ceilings that were ground
that were ceilings that were ground that were ceilings.
* * * * * *
Your blood was spilled ink on concrete.
A song of growth for fledglings.
Oil taxidermying the living
created a symphony of croaks
with sheet music.