Today I wait
on a single word
unknown to me
that I open with
my mouth
and pass through
like a cedar bough.
Where the utterance
ends I perch
because I am
going to die but
can’t yet appreciate it.
Birds have always
understood this migration
as imperative.
Take the catbird
practicing her medicine.
The hoarse meeurrs
and cackling kedekekeks.
The deep whurfs,
all signaling life
at once glorious
on a high branch
then just gone
in a hedge.
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