Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsSpring 2018  Vol. 17 No. 1
an online journal of literature and the arts
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That the blind—
            sight taken

by tumor or gunshot,
diabetes or a blow

to the head—
rarely venture

outside is not true.
I have seen

their cloudy faces
pressed to warm wind

as though to watch
the voice of it—

a bird, recognized
though never

seen—and thus,
claim it.


Spotted first in Virginia:
blind house finches,

sight ruined by contagion
and cut from the flock,

scouring the ground for seed
spilled beneath suburban

feeders. I have seen them
rise on a downstroke

of stiff wings and keel, poxed
eyes sightless,

            each bird heavier than the air
through which it climbs.  

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