Homage to Messiaen

Monday, January 10, 2011

Click, click, click.
My husband picked them off
with his camera
as they were flying
across the sky to reach
sundown’s reddened roosts:
birds skewered
arched forever
against our living room wall.

But in truth they are still
winging—iridescent, shining
outside their cadre.
Like the notes
the composer first fixed
as straight pins:
preternatural prisms,
wood thrush
flushed from the ground,
bouquet of pheasants.

Saturday, January 1, 2011