Another Bird, Rising
The shadow behind you slides over
the ceiling, up and gone,
a wingless silence. The drafted swirl.
One morning shifts into two, and still
you won’t give in, each moment’s
gasp another one earned, a measurable
notch on the table’s edge, quarters
in the magic purse. They all count.
Pills, chemo, radiation. Ocean to sky.
Houses to ash. Your eyes see black.
“Another Bird, Rising” first appeared in deLuge in fall 2016.
O at the Edges 
‘…a wingless silence’ – captivating… as it should be.
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Thank you, Jan!
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So sad, I’m so sad reading this. I hope you are alright.
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Oh, I’m fine, thanks. This was written several years ago.
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This is stunning. Just stunning and elegant, even as it speaks of loss. Not only are the images captivating, but I can appreciate the silence between the words and lines, and stanzas. This is truly gripping.
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Thanks very much!
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Each gasp is a tiny miracle – we think nothing of it till we start thinking it might be the last. This poem encourages me to breathe deeply, with gratitude that I can. Thank you.
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Thank you, Jazz. Yes, each gasp is precious.
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You hit me with the last two lines, Robert. Ow.
Great poem, as always. 🙂
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I’m so pleased it resonated for you. Thank you.
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Incredible poem. Having gone through chemo I relate
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Thanks very much.
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Splendid imagery and stunning finale
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Thank you, Derrick.
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Those eyes…they are visiting another place. I have seen them too. (K)
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They haunt us!
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Pingback: a grumpy gift: Another Bird, Rising — O at the Edges | hands in the garden
I so adore this poem.. dark and comforting.. and written in such a wise and soulful way. 🙂 A gift. 🙂
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You are very kind, Anthony. Thank you.
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Oh Robert, again your words touch me deeply, ..in a windless silence I’ve heard that last gasp…..
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Thank you, Ivor. That silence!
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It’s a sound that never leaves you.
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It really doesn’t.
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