Friday, November 7, 2014

Bird Shadow Dancing

staring out the car window
spit snow hardly a ripple
in the pond of thoughts
swirling to no particular
rhythm when suddenly
my eyes go all disco and
the focus fights to find
its locus as dancing spots
make their away this and
that around, across, on
the road’s paved face
and after the moment of
panic for a woman no longer
young wondering, worrying,
if this is what blindness
will be like, might be like,
floating, random, dancing
spots – and then she looks
up – briefly laughing at her
own foolishness, so ground-
bound – birds upon birds, 
flying, floating, swirling,
dancing on the wind of
their own imaginings, unmindful,
in the way of birds, of the 
fuss their presence creates for
the earth-bound ones below

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