Bluebird Lady

with her snips and shears
and glistening galoshes
tramps the muck of March
this morning on the lower
pasture. She bears a wooden
space for feather-nesting,
six-sided geometry to hold
a bird-warm dark.

And when she's set out
seven boxes, she comes
back flapping sleeves
against the gusts, the sky
as quick as bird wings.

Taylor Graham