Vox Populi
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Hayden Saunier: Augury, 2025
Seven black starlings
settle in the sycamore’s bony crown
like an idea taking shape
or a sign we once knew how to read.
Birds are always telling us everything they know.
Okay, we say, but could you make
a simple statement, give a clear directive?
Yes, but we have wings, they say, we fly.
The calendar pinned to the pine door says it’s spring.
The one housed in our bones says
every bud is clenched with cold.
Beyond the bare woods, someone practices shooting a gun.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
Three knocks by a single fist on the door of the air
which says there is something to fear.
As does the quiet after.
The grandfather clock wound too tightly
strikes its chimes in triple time.
The bird book says that crows and jackdaws
know a dozen calls for warning.
Look, the starlings lift as one.
~~~~
Copyright 2025 Hayden Saunier
Hayden Saunier is a poet, actor, and teaching artist living in the Philadelphia area. Her books include Wheel published by Terrapin Books.
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I will never tire of a poem that celebrates birds. Love.
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Thanks, Lisa.
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A gorgeous poem. It gets me there, into that fresh still a bit shivery spring morning, into the “the sycamore’s bony crown with seven starlings, like an idea taking shape, or a sign we once knew how to read.”
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Yes, me too.
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Lately the crows are meeting at dusk to form black clouds heading west. They gather in the eucalyptus trees until the branches are heavy, then take off as one as a new group takes their place. I leave them peanuts that are scooped up before the evening migration. Loved this poem.
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I do too.
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This is a beautiful poem, full of wonderous images and forebodings, but also the hope of coming together against them: “Look, the starlings lift as one.” Saunier is such a wonderful poet.
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I love when I find a new favorite poem. This is it.
“Birds are always telling us everything they know.
Okay, we say, but could you make
a simple statement, give a clear directive?”
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Oh, yes.
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A resonant, mythic and deeply convincing poem. And, yes, an elegant one as Luray says. A lesson in concision and metaphor — I’m a fan, Hayden! I’ll start writing from this poem this morning!
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Elegant and piercing, as one expects from Hayden, with an extra echo: directive pointing one back to Frost. Thanks for posting this poem, Michael.
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Thanks, Luray!
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This poem tickles my tongue and brain all at once. I often turn to birds when faced with difficulty. This poem could step in, too. Thank you, poet!
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Nice to see you here again, Bob. Welcome back!
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It is good to be here—I may be quiet, but I’m never far away. Vox Populi is part of my morning routine.
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I think of you often, Bob. My shadow. My other self.
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I’ve been thinking about birds of late, “Holes in heaven through which man may pass,” is what Walter Inglis Anderson said of them in his Horn Island Log. I like Hayden’s treatment: Augury, and they do signify so much in their presence and absence. Its a beautiful poem we should let come to life in our Monday thoughts like birds.
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Lovely, Sean. Thank you.
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how great to hear a reference to Walter Anderson! I have the horn island logs and will look that reference up!
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This is such a beautiful poem, Hayden. Thanks for allowing VP to share it.
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Thank you, Michael, and for everything you do and VP do for all of us!
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Thank you, Hayden, for sharing your wonderful poems with us.
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