A TINY BIT OF GRASS
I saw this bird today.
It was just a brief instant
I was in a parking lot headed to
a job.
He was at the edge of the lot in a tiny bit of grass we had left him.
There was this instant that I knew
for certain,
for absolute certain,
that this bird was important.
So important that I would remember the motion of his body as he
paused for an instant to
look at me.
So important that I would remember
how he moved,
as important as a red wheelbarrow,
or a player on a stage,
he raised his wings
and made that poking motion at the ground and
he was important,
not just another bird,
noticed by just another person
because there is no such thing as
just another bird
or just another person.
There is only one bird
only one
person.
and yet I pause in this twilight moment to ponder
was this the same bird
let loose above the streets of paris
in ’45
or the same bird who called to chopin
there is only one bird,
one person
and we paused, that bird and I
we paused to
notice each other and then, like good soldiers
we continued on to
our
jobs
bird poem- David Michael Jackson 2005 editors@artvilla.com
You may also like my shoes poem
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