Aubade Ending with a Premonition of Death

The shape of the birds is strange today is
not right the shape of my wrong-shaped heart

one day doctors will hold it up and marvel
turning it around in their latex hands murmuring

what a misshapen beast how did it even beat blood round
such a body I had shaped like the strange-shaped

birds but could not fly I always ran fast
and awkwardly the way the ostrich runs

out of danger and into the shallow silly ground
just so I did not hear when the doctors told me the day

I would die instead I was singing back to the birds
that took flight and maybe passed my message on.