Shawn L. Bird

From The Collected Poems of Patrick Lane (Harbour Publishing, 2011)

The Bird

The bird you captured is dead.

I told you it would die

but you would not learn

from my telling.  You wanted

to cage a bird in your hands

and learn to fly.

.

Listen again.

You must not handle birds.

They cannot fly through your fingers.

You are not a nest

and a feather is

not made of blood and bone.

.

Only words

can fly for you like birds

on the wall of the sun.

A bird is a poem

that talks of the end of cages.

.

I’m attending a poetry retreat with Patrick Lane this summer, so I’ve been reading his work.  I’m looking forward to the opportunity to study with him!