Cloudy -poem

Cloudy

A funny little bird walks across
my toes
like my 200 tiny
meat-incased bones
were twigs on the ground.

It's wings outstretched
horizontal to the ground
it flaps.
It's got a look of determination
like a dive-bomber.
I swear I can see it's
Disney-Animation
pilot-goggles
secured to it's face.
Right above the beak.

A stampede of birds
wings outstretched
are marching
down the road.
Their wings flap, furiously.
Dust rises.
A cloud forms.
None leave the ground.

And soon, it is a storm of dust;
no bird be seen, anywhere.
Just the hum of winged fury
from within a cloud reddish brown.

I think,
'To find clarity,
rise above.'