There are lots of birds in this collection by Linda Bierds The Hardy Tree.
Traces of the poet-writer self? Or persona?
Figures of fleeting moments and form…
The ending of “The Hardy Tree”
[…] young birds
that just a year ago were not birds at all,
but only particles of grain,
and earth, and air, and rain.
The ending of “Evolution” (the non-italicized lines are from Schrödinger’s What is Life?)
In no case, then, is there a loss of personal existence to deplore–
marten, whitethroat, blackbird,
lark–nor will there ever be
From the middle of “Metamorphosis: 1680”
From the eagle, swan, crow, lark,
the diminishing quills.
And they fly out of sight but in memory they remind us of passage…
And so for day 2664