Blackbird Highways





If I could find

Blackbird highways


Fading into the distance

Ancient lines passed

Tree to tree.

Ancient etchings in

Memory of north to south.


Gathering congregations

In friendly fields and

Ponds, wires

Filled at exact intervals.


A chorus at dusk

Gone by morning

Afternoon trails

In twisted columns

In the distance

following their own roads

against the weather


driven by a force they

know nothing about