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Songbirds fly north at night
in the flyways above Turtle Island.
What needle guides them in the dark?
Is that me beside them?
When I think I’m a bird
or my skull’s the firmament
I’m writing in my sleep.
I’m opening my book for the sun
to read at the speed of light,
turn to blank the moment I wake.
I’m flying like a sparrow in my sleep
with only a pen to guide me,
too heavy to lift from the bed
in which I dream of flying and singing
in the dark.
~~~~

Chard deNiord is the author of In My Unknowing (Pitt, 2020) and the essay editor at Plume Poetry Journal. He lives in Westminster West, Vermont with his wife, Liz.
Copyright 2024 Chard deNiord
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Sweetest of sparrow dreams for you, and all of us who hear birdcalls in our beds.
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Lovely. Thanks, Jim.
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Keep a pen ready in your dreams for those avian moments. thanks.
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beautiful, chard. a guided song of songs for space that needs your pen!!!
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Yes, what a beautiful ars poetica!
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Ah, Chard — what a seamless, delightful poem!
“I’m opening my book for the sun
to read at the speed of light,
turn to blank the moment I wake.”!!!
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yes, it is a perfect poem
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Is that me beside them?
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I believe it is. You and Chard are flying together at night guided by your pens.
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