BIRDS * FOUR SEASONS
by William Marr

*SPRING

if you wish to know
the shortest distance
between two woods
on this enchanting day
any of the swift little birds
can tell you with their twitters

it’s not a straight line

*SUMMER

At noon
struck by a flaming bullet
a small bird
plummeted through
dense leafy shade

Until slowly awakening
to discover himself
standing on a tree
lush and luxuriant

All that can be green
is green

*AUTUMN

When did the eyes
become so blurry

A bird flying higher and higher
discovers
its own reflection in a pond
the smaller the clearer

*WINTER

The last thread of mist drifting in the air
finally joins
the icicles beneath the eaves

In this kind of weather
how can I criticize
a small bird’s song
brief and evasive



 

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