First, she was hummingbird—fast green
wings barely seen, a small green heartbeat.
Then goldfinch—yellow bulleting
across the sky, thrust by song.
She saw the red fox running in the woods,
heard the clucking of remaining chickens.
She remembers being Carolina Wren, busy
in the bushes, small leaps from branch to branch.
The songs she sang then: a summertime
of clover, of lightning, of cool rain after
long heat. Her time as Chickadee: months
of November’s lack of light. So much grey. The world
dulled. Finally, Crow-Crone. The branches were hers
again, her perch to watch the glittery world. She laughed
more than sang a song. She knew her own kind of fox
was running quickly towards her.
Carol Berg’s poems are forthcoming or in Crab Creek Review (Poetry Finalist 2017), DMQ Review, Hospital Drive (Contest Runner-Up 2017), Sou’wester, The Journal, Spillway, Redactions, Radar Poetry, Verse Wisconsin. Her recent chapbook, The Johnson Girls, is available from dancing girl press. She was winner of a scholarship to Poets on the Coast and a recipient of a Finalist’s Grant from the Massachusetts Cultural Council.
Carol’s work previously appeared in December 2013.