Flyway

Early December—

the flyway fills with more geese

than a child can count.

Drawing

In a child’s drawing

St. Francis and a sparrow

share a crust of bread.

In a great city

where no one speaks my language,

a child smiles at me.

how many more moons

until the plum tree blossoms

the child asks again

child’s first lost tooth

tucked in an envelope

long forgotten

on her way to school

a child scoops up a feather

blackbird lost last night

the child’s funeral—

placing atop her casket

a pink sippy cup