Sweet blue wren, please talk to me
Your song at dawn was sad
Laments, bereft, and yet you sang
With everything you had

You sang while swooping, sang while perched, you sang as trees were felled
I stand in silence, dumb and burnt
Where once your chorus swelled

A wind that moves the blades of mills
Can rustle through the trees
When branches, trunks and crowns are gone
How will we catch the breeze?

Sweet blue wren, please come to me
Come slowly if you must
I know I share the cutter’s form
A shape that’s hard to trust

I see you and your little wings
I hear your broken song
Your scattered notes on scattered shrubs
Can make me whole
And strong