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Transcription
Lunging
knee-deep
through the tall
grass, I catch
the arc of a bird
whose colors,
cloaked in movement,
blurred by sudden
exposure,
speak almost too
softly for my ears
to hear. I understand
these feathers
like you understand
a poem but cannot
repeat its meaning
in other words.
I write it all down,
though, in black
and white—
it’s what I know
how to do, it’s
the best I can do.
