Fernando Smith

Artist

Poet

Performer

 

Poetry

The State of Things

Lynn 134

The little bird stood

transfixed by the sun

St. Francis bent over

scooping the creature

in his kind palms

 

The wind was high

urging the poplars to curve

like reaching feathers

 

Ten minutes later

the bird, perched in a cage,

cursed the sun

 

in a fishbone voice

mistaken for delight.

 

 

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