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?

[LAG-signature date=”03 15 2012″ url=” http://morningporch.com/2012/03/159122413/”]

Morning Porch Poems: Winter 2011-12

Cusp Dear shadow,