Sunday, January 3, 2010
When I see the small, brown-backed bird,
round, white belly on the fence,
I have a sudden desire to name it.
Not robin, obviously, or jay.
But thrush? Or sparrow?
My son says a brownbird,
like the day we take his parakeet to school.
Pre-schoolers gather round the table,
clamor close to see the cage.
My son announces, It is a blue bird,
and they nod.
it's a parakeet I tell them,
but they are already beyond
my sphere of authority.
They are looking at a bird,
white feathers, rings of blue.
Knowing nothing of taxonomy
what they know is this:
They have never been so close to a bird.
Five or six of them circle, press
tiny hands on the table,
whisper little words of praise.
Bluebird, bluebird, bluebird.
I step out of my body
and break into feather.
Posted by Jen at 7:10 PM