The Reflection Pool

I’m feeling beat up
and like I don’t know
English right now and
people keep telling me
happy birthday on Facebook
when it is not my birthday and
my dreams are filled with
the same dead bird, night
after night, in various forms
of decay and
you wonder why people are
telling me happy birthday when,
clearly, it is not, and why, do I
think, am I having that dream
and I don’t know, really, I just
saw the bird where it fell out of
the tree, dead, or else where
it fell, dead, after hitting Ed’s
truck when flying out of the
tree, a Dark-eyed Junco and
I just saw the bird laying
there, dead, and maybe I feel
some guilt over not doing
anything with its body; I
just left it on the ground where
it fell, and I wonder when I walk
by it, each time, if I ever watched
it with my binoculars but now,
maybe, with the freshly fallen
six inches of snow, I won’t see
the bird again until spring, or
maybe, only the skull and
bones which is its favorite form
in my dreams

……………
and the periods, where do
they all go?