by Susan Vespoli
not grief, not the gut clench that startles,
shows up first in the solar plexus,
then spreads to the heart and lungs to stifle
breath. No. I want to focus on the soft
underbelly of birds, how they are cupped-palm-
sized, feathered, backlit by morning light,
how the wings stretch and soar like Blue Angel
jets above my head if I remember to look up.
1 comment:
Lovely as one would expect Dear Susan!
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