G o n e

Though they were there
Fabulous and real
In thickets of grass
And wind-knotted shadows
You never really saw them.
You wanted to
And tried to pry
Past bushes and reeds
To see if your image
Would be faithful
To what they would be
Or be but shadow on shadow again.
But the darkness defied you.
Your movements were clumsy
And they were forewarned;
The shadows stirred
The air thickened with pulse
And that cry you muffled-
Was that terror or joy?
For you watched as those
Great forms assumed the air,
As water shattered
Then dripped with wings
Leaving you to gape
At their rich precision
As memory attempted
To name and contain
The fabulous birds
Now gone.