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