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“Bluebird” by Callista Buchen

Published on Thursday, December 6th, 2012

“17 Stones #15″ by Jenna Kuiper


To say bluebird is nothing.
To say bluebird is saying hello
or hard or evening-tide.

I think I could say capsule
and mean it. I could say
climb and mean it.

I could tell you about the mountains
that form under your tongue
and stream into the air.

About the violets and the golden
eagles, the pine trees damming up
the space between your tone

and mine until it isn’t funny
anymore. The way the light
drowns in the cliffs

we make with our mouths
and everything goes
clatter and blindness.

How someone has always forgotten
to bring or is it build
the map. Or maybe a bullhorn.

Think of the echo.
I don’t know any words
better than bluebird.

My whole life is bluebird.