you’d be an albatross who couldn’t fly–

not a flightless bird,

just one with a sore wing

unable to take off.

You’d either be scooped up and nursed to health

or maybe surrendered and put into a big sleep.

But if tomorrow you suddenly turned into an albatross

and you survived

       you’d learn to fly again

                            and make the sky

                                     your new home

     and soon forget language beyond chirps.

You’d sing a song you’d heard before

and remember human me and think

             what animal is he?

But you should know

that I could never let myself

turn into a bird,

I’d have to remain human

because if you’re an albatross

I’m always going to be the one to scoop you up

and make you forget your wing was ever sore at all.