New Birds — a poem

New Birds

The low, pink-gold light
of an evening in winter
Made new birds in the tree
Behind my house.

Standing underneath and looking up,
I was astonished by
Their tropical candescence,
Bright bursts of feathers on their breasts
Which glowed like embers
As they flitted westward,
Following the pull of the Brightness
which had lain itself bare
upon their transformed bodies.

A sharing of brilliance,
Unassuming to them and almost
Baffling to me;
Do I know these birds–
Do I know this tree–
How can this be?


(photo and poem by Ben White)

You can listen to me read it here

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