The White Birds

–after Thomas McGrath

 
They return in moments,

the white birds

to your body to once more

become your body

you are not an empty delta

after all, gone

the sudden fox that sprang

from the grass,

 

startled you to an explosion

of wing and breath,

 

caused you to fly

a million ways at once toward infinite sky

 

one by one

the senses come back,

the white birds settle,

fold their wings, cock their heads,

lightly pluck their cool beaks

at every pore of your skin

 

And do they sing?

Their brief entire world

is song.

 

-Arlitia Jones

flight-shape-Titmouse

2 Comments on “The White Birds

  1. I just love this poem, Arlitia. Gorgeous. I shall never forget those white birds, especially when startled! XO Anne

    Like

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