• Vol. 10
  • Chapter 12
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Learning from Birds

All night dark wings
flopping in my heart.
Each an ambition bird.
— Anne Sexton

A leucistic chaffinch, with clown-white circles for eyes,
squints at cries from a house sparrow
as if his chirrups are too much to bear.

I am not a morning bird.

All night my wings fold beneath me,
impress bone shapes where ribs hide.

Palm-sized, my beak barely opens
to trap the weight of air.

Dayflower-blue swinging scales
measure one ounce of me at a time
and the fine fescue greens

the sun-sparrow cry;

sup, chirrup, churr
sup, chirrup, churr

Fly into the day.