birds, like the ones with red feathers,
or blue feathers,
it does not matter to make
a picture of

birds.

together on opposites sides
of a galvanized fence.

birds that have feathers unlike each other
but are birds.

birds that fail to tell one another when
flight occurs,
but they know.
they take flight like tin heroes,
but feathered,
it’s the silence we don’t understand.

the bulbous eyes,
the stuttering heads,
the chip, chip, chirp.

the song.

like sand slipping through my
together hands,
the song,
the spaces,
we don’t know.