Even in gray sky before sunrise,
I see your blue-shaded wings,
your black, bold beak, your proud
head, turned to the sky — bare
branches surrounding you.
You are the first this morning —
first and foremost — like all things
beautiful, you command
presence as you move through
space, as your body joins
the imagination of those who watch,
who, unlike you, will never know
your agility, your scandalous
ability to always be new.


From Come Before Winter (Turning Plow Press, 2023).
Used here with permission.