The ancestors and the cuckoo

 feather 

feigned
laid down to rest
where the mountain scrapes the snow from its brow

sorry wails of the dead

brought home to the heart 

of the cuckoos nest

portions of fear

parcelled long in their tongues

carefully unzipped breaches 

of song

these

 bleeding wounds 

 scavenging wolves that feast

upon this memory

evoke me to tell thee

that i love you...