So Close
by Barbara Groce
Curlicues of wood
fall to the floor,
then clouds of dust
fill the workshop air.
A bluebird emerges
from basswood.
Glass eyes,
metal legs,
cerulean paint
complete him.
Perched on driftwood,
he gazes ever outward
set to fly away
and sing his stillborn song
in fields of grain
and flowered meadows
just beyond the window pane.
Author’s Comment: My husband Bill carves realistic birds. His Blue Bird was promised to our daughter, Marti, but graced our cabin for a few weeks before being whisked away. He spent the time with us looking at the view, exactly as the poem says, ready to fly away.
Wild Goose Poetry Review 
I like this Blue Bird poem. It’s haunting, like a visitation by a spirit from a different world.