Day 5: No One Ever
Told Me
No
one ever told me about the sound
of baby starlings nestled in the eaves
of our barn—nor, how, through our walls
we would still hear the bright voiced tapestry:
A deep stitch of mother, then a blur of
tiny effervescent voices. Or, how,
when my son would up, still sleepy-eyed and
slow, he’d follow me, press his ear to wall,
and smile a kind of joy that seemed in
tune with all we heard. This is what dawn is—
A heart that’s always listening to joy.of baby starlings nestled in the eaves
of our barn—nor, how, through our walls
we would still hear the bright voiced tapestry:
A deep stitch of mother, then a blur of
tiny effervescent voices. Or, how,
when my son would up, still sleepy-eyed and
slow, he’d follow me, press his ear to wall,
and smile a kind of joy that seemed in
tune with all we heard. This is what dawn is—
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