Today's poem is by K. A. Hays
Mind in Flock, Mind Apart
They scatter high, the grackles. What's to know
of mind in flock? Some baffling drive to share?
I keep apart my thought. They swoop and go
as if some harried god inhaled. A show
of beauty, thenthe great lung thrills with air
that scatters high the grackles. This I know:
they perch like thorns, that blackened croaking row
along a bough. We too sing what we bear,
but keep apart most thoughtsthey swoop and go
like hawks, drab hunters circling, circling slow
over small things: to dive, to feed. To tear
and scatter high. The grackles (those I know)
stay close in hunger: flit down, grub low,
blue clucks, green squealsand each self gone where?
Not kept apart. Less thought, more swoop and go
a particle, a wave. The peppered dusk. But no,
what weird squallingis what's here in me out there?
They scatter high, the grackles, what I know.
They keep a part of thought. I swoopthey go.
Copyright © 2015 K. A. Hays All rights reserved
from Southern Humanities Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
Support Verse Daily!
Home Web Weekly Features Archives About Verse Daily FAQs Submit to Verse Daily
Copyright © 2002-2015 Verse Daily All Rights Reserved