I lived a good life
and was reborn a sparrow.
Towhee-like
I scratched meals
on the ground
with both feet
but mostly I flew,
threading a needle
through dense thickets,
wheeling in legions
above power lines.Ìý
My breast was streaked
white and brown,
my bones
an invention of light.
Crossing low alone
in clearings I felt
I soared:
then a pane of glass
in what had seemed
a clearing.
So the reality
I meant only to pass through
contracted
to an instant
and killed me.
Ìý
God had mercy
and remade me as
a blackbird.
In the marsh
it was sweet:
I built my nest,
wove a wet cup
about the cattails.
The walls
were bur-reed and rush
the bed inside
grass dry and soft. And oh
I loved the brood
with eyes tight shut.
For my baby
seed of the field,
damselflies
for my baby. But you
do not grow fat –
I paired again,
my mate distinguished
by song:
a choking,
scraping noise
made with much
apparent effort.
Ìý
Expiring
without legacy
I begged to still
be wingedÌý An ivory
gullÌýÌý A plover
A thrushÌýÌý
And mercy
was endless
As a guillemot
I returned
starving slick
in my own color
as murre in
AlaskaÌýÌýÌý I starvedÌýÌýÌý
as one penguinÌý
of 40,000ÌýÌýÌý
Then God blessed me
at lastÌýÌýÌýÌý I was a sea bird
in AustraliaÌýÌý I floated
in the water
I ate everything
the world gave meÌýÌý
And then I was fullÌýÌýÌý
O HeavenÌýÌý Then
I realized my need
could not be met
