quieting for blue
i heard the mystery
of migration:
birdsong slicing the air--
tired wingbeats
under Pleiades and Orion
the Tundra Swans' announced their arrival
with true cries
hitting hard
around midnight:
él dijo:
they only stop to rest
briefly, secretely
they've come so far.
they have so far yet to travel.
I climbed the hill to spy their
dawn ritual
stretching wings, a brief rest on an unfrozen lake
in the high desert freeze
their secrets
this blue
that journey
exacting their specific
awe
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