Third Letter to Darkness
Carol Berg
Dear Darkness: Let’s talk about the way
your body moves--
bees working the ivy bush like a hive &
little white flowers flung among the serrated
leaves. Is there movement in the glow
of the red berries in this autumn sun? No rain
here and this red tail hawk flaps restlessly
tree branch to tree branch.
Your large wings carry
a heavy silence in their lift
Blue jays yammer
& dust motes of hornets in the sunlit air.
Dear Darkness, sometimes there is no
where to go—even the rain stops traveling.
Pine needles knifing
the ground. No swirl.
Something refusing
to reach out.