Lullaby
Nights I couldn’t sleep
my mother sang to me
about a boy who wanted
to be flown into heaven.
Everyday, climbing up
the tower he lived in
to see the blue doves
flying by, and everyday,
climbing down, weeping
into a featherless sky.
Sometimes I think of
what it was like for him,
wingless, after the song:
his second life repeating
in the otherworld where
music waits to be sung.
Structure
16 lines · 16 stanzas