The Helicopters

We hear them before we see
them, giant bugs frantically fighting
the air to stay aloft. Black mechanical
things that whine and bluster
the trees and windows. We know
why they are here and what they
are for, the messages they bring
and send. They would seem to say
we are all alright, but we know
that that is all wrong. Outside,
it is easy enough to duck, they seem
so close. And then they are gone
and the house and yard adjust again.

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Copyright © 2011 William Virgil Davis All rights reserved
from The Carolina Quarterly
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission