While Watching the Birds Fly South br for W. S. Merwin br br br 1. to be br that and that alone br the lone bird who flies br over a palate of god-painted br landscape br whose music is the songs br of mourning whose rhythms br are the voice and the creation br of the winds br of the god br of the angels. br br 2. that for me would be enough br br 3. oh, to be a bird br rather than this human skin- bag br this unpredictable soul br who it is claimed br will die will rise br from the dead. br br 4. just to die, then disappear to a powder br to a dust, the only thing left br a jeweler's box of hollowed bones br that embraces the wetness of earth br in the shallowest of graves. br br 5. like the stones on a beautiful necklace br that circles the breast of earth br as the pearls that you will wear br when you will still be beautiful br and me, I will be no longer around br my moment, time will have filched away. br br 6. death and flying are the greatest br of arts the greatest br of masteries. br br 7. I will not speak of love br its belief and hope and masteries br which once were a warming fire br are now a kindling's ash br that doesn't waste its measure br on the color of a crow. br br 8. once when young I listened intently br to a flock of geese who were lost br on an October's night br their calls greased the night br with loneliness. br br 9. a reminder's moment br that parallels all memories now br of love of loss br of the darkness of night br of birds winging south br for warmer climes. br br 10. I pack my books of poetry br in boxes now br for a move br to a place of my own br I stop my work for a moment. br Autumn geese again flying overhead br crying out seeking direction br br 11. like anguished prayers br of a crucified God.