Flutterdance Bang

How can I leave on a soft spring morning,
dew rising lightly as mist on forsythia,
when here a cardinal looks in my window,
sees its reflection, begins to flutter,
flutter and dance, bangs into the glass
as if to fight a foe or save a friend?
If only I could tell her she's alone.


This poem was selected for the 2012 Poetry in Public project, sponsored by the Iowa City Public Art Program. Poetry in Public displays poems by local writers of all ages in Iowa City buses, downtown kiosks, and select public buildings from April (National Poetry Month) through the fall.

This page was first displayed
on July 24, 2012

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