Wednesday Poem

Aviva Englander Cristy

Last week the origin was piled Image_bird_on_a_wire
with dust in the corner
when I swept. I wonder now
how we manage to hold
these widening circles so tight.

In the window the birds
are held by tiny feet
and breathless balance
on a thin metal thread.

We learn to stand
by balancing the origin.

Which stillness will hold
itself in your view
one moment longer?

In one still life the bones
in the foot of a bird
curve perfectly around
the electrical wire, leaving
no room for error or fall.