i am the bird in the story
the one that sits silent on the sparse tree branch
i see the accident on the corner
the way the chrome indentation of someone’s mistake becomes someone else’s blame
the way the heat in the voice rises from the charged energy of collision
and i learn to say accident
or two people
or the word collision
and not swoop to redefine it
and i stay the silent bird in the story
i keep my own energy sparse avoiding collision
so as not to absorb the blame of someone else’s mistake
i am the bird in the story
tamping down my voice
so as not to sing brilliantly and lure their attention upward
away from the confrontation below
i am the story in the bird
rewriting its ending so as not to begin dancing
not to shake the leaves free from the tree
so that the color lights up the air between the collision and the blame
i am the bird in the story
and i keep my countenance calm
so as not to swoop down on the accident on the corner
i am the story rewriting the bird
as it rewrites the tree
as it learns to say accident
just sit in the tree
learn to say two cars
or two people
or the word collision
and not swoop to redefine it
i stay silent
i am the bird in the tree
- barbara mitchell