by Lorene Lamothe
It's our footsteps
that
scare them into flight, all at once
lifting
and scattering across a blue smoke sky
until
everything is sudden, dark and strange-
the
stillness rising to rippling sound
before
settling back
onto
light, barren branches.
As usual, we wave goodbye
without
comment and not for the first time
I
wonder if you've seen it too-
how
silence opens./
Originally published in Third Coast