Anchor, After Roland Faunte

I am the window

And I am the light

I am the handheld

Device that my lungs still spite

I am the tower

And the rocks there thrown

I am the demon

And I am refusing to grow

I am the pink cheeks

And I am the wind

I am the cardinal’s beak

And the wings long untrimmed

I am the finish line

And the string of wire

I am the robber

And I am the burning fires

I am the angel

And I am the glow

I am the things that rattle inside

The things that will never be known

— ODH