Not too long ago, a bird flew into my windshield and its impact reminded me of all those people taking that quick, harsh step into the real world this week as they graduate. This poem is for all those who are going and all those letting go.
Little Bird
Not so little
little bird
flying in all directions
across this back road,
flying into the windshield
of this flying machine,
beak, flat into glass.
So new at this,
litle bird,
trying,
trying to keep control
in the face of flight
in the face of the unexpected.
It scares me,
all these new distances
legs caught under the wiper
head stuck in the window well.
Not so little bird,
understand that I love you
understand that it was hard
to let you go this morning, hard not to hold
you, wrapped in a tee shirt
not easy to release you from
the ticking wiper
still, wanting all the while
to let you go.
Today, after the bird,
after I did all I could do,
after release into flight,
for the first time
I close my eyes while
you take that quick step.
I close my eyes
freeing you
to what is around the curve,
freeing you to fly.
Mary Crescenzo
