I Can’t Do Either

I used to want to fly
To bunch my wings, muscles pounding
And explode from a tree branch
Caught in the currents of the wind
But owning the breeze with a sweep of my feathered reach

I used to want to talk to the animals
To snort and honk and growl
And let my mind feast in the consciousness of others

I can’t do either

Not unless
Unless I replace my feathers with steel
And my mind with the world