Wax Wings by Nicole Michaels

Wax Wings

You appear in a clearing like you stole a ride here,
to winnow red berries on a ditch bank by a plowed field.

You perch along a wire fence,
sip water from the tracks of deer,

knead the sky like sourdough,
elastic when you fly.

I know you’re headed south,
can’t quite picture you there –

by a lemon tree and a faux outhouse,
suet in a keeper, a lawn chair pulled close –

our long winter will come without your ballads
but I’ll remember how you showed

yellow tail feathers like matchbooks, striking,
igniting as you go.

by Nicole Michaels

Editor’s Note: This poem’s energetic closing stanza is the perfect ending to the story of birds whose beauty never fails to enchant those who are fortunate enough to see them.