Melospiza melodia, Mon livre d’oiseau

In this landscape:  

scattered stations from which a pair or pairs of eyes might observe 

the scorpion’s “bright hooks”
silhouettes of migrating birds against the moon; a field where land-
scapes diverge; winter’s closing of lakes coming on, and birds
			
between their breeding regions.   Between the hills, a confluence, crumbling

The Grey-cheeked Thrush 
takes off

from home to head 
toward other homes. Something distills, heavy
industry;  hinted-at 
hit and runs untangling,  hawking questions of the soul’s
defunct & tabulating high 

TV-tower corpses; unravel this guttural; our capacities to home
at different elevations and hours of the night;  cars speeding
pleasure at our heels, our shoulders

invented in curves, birthmarks 
lit up

Next - Virgil Suárez

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