What Birds Do
You talk about birds as if they are calling
to you through the window at the bottom
of your long list of things to do, the oblong
-shaped aspirations, the unfinished
sculptures and empty shipping boxes you
can’t bring yourself to throw away just yet.
“Listen,” you say, “That finch just announced an
extension of the grace period.”
Fine. Take some more grace. Light your room with it,
but let that finch, if that’s what it is,
do what birds do, sing to no one in
particular, and fly, God knows where.
Lovely thoughts.
Sent from my iPhone
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