A poem about the present.

I caught it by mistake. 

I spread its wings and nailed them open on a wooden board.

With small incisions I`ve cut its torso 

finding nothing but an empty shell. 

No tiny beating heart.
No lungs expanding and contracting. 

No sign of understanding

how it works. 

So I set it free. 

And it took its hollow body into the clouds,

leaving nothing,

but confusion.