[Songbirds]
       

Songbirds. Leaves steeped till sour.
Juniper. First in the water but no generation.
What do I begin?
A terrific mass, like a star,
invisible, immeasurable,
impossibly remote,
containing every length
and resource.
Time and the remainder.

I am gathering against—myself,
notyou,notanyone,but

                                    I'm leaving,
how else to hum with what
is about me
the occasion to endure

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Copyright © 2015 Aaron McCollough All rights reserved
from Rank
University of Iowa Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission