Field Note

This entry is part 71 of 73 in the series Morning Porch Poems: Winter 2011-12

A lone ricebird perches
on the shoulder of the water buffalo.

Three of them, four, twenty:
flotilla of wings against the sky.

How many would it take,
before their weight felt like a burden?

 

In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

Series Navigation← CuspDear shadow, →

Leave a Reply