A Childhood Pilgrimage in Four Birds

Kristiana Reed

lone crow

black against sunlight

awash with solitude

with wondering if i belong

if this is a place called home

or just a stopping point

on the road to something else

something else i cannot see

six magpies

for gold they glisten

the iridescence of wings

how i pause for every stone / shell,

a never ending quest

to find something special

always forgetting myself

drifting seagulls

wish i too had wings to glide

to float back and forth

below cloud / above water

to know i can take to either

the power to remain untouched

in my freedom

a gaggle of geese

they call loud they call incessantly

home, home, home,

as other geese turn

toward the gaggle,

as I wish for ever

to sprout feathers / a beak.