Poem: The Bird Fence

By: JD DeHart

blackbirds

Two blackbirds sitting on the fence,
one slightly lower in its stance,
watch us pass by as if they should be
two old ladies, reincarnated as birds.
Somewhere close, a dove has twigged
together a small nest, burying itself
out of their gleaming predatory sight.
The mortality of the blackbird is mystery
giving way to a preference for pretending
these are the same birds who watched
Hector dragged around the city walls,
the same birds who watched my younger
self, learning life in games and shouting.

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