morning song
BY JIM WHITESIDE
Feathered thing un-pinable, un-
cageable, when I say You are many-sided
as a cut diamond, I mean
Your hands for doing, your wide wingspan, your
always open mouth. Stippled pond half-frozen over,
little bead of sea glass, when I say The daffodils
are foolish, I mean Late frost—sheathed in ice,
brittle as glass. You know these things already,
I’m an easy tell. I can’t help I’m the kind of boy
born with his heart on the outside, hard
for me to help what you can and cannot see.
This poem references the song “Mouth” by the experimental rock band Fear Before.
