As one of my students came into class this morning, I pointed to the feeder outside our window.

“Look, S, there’s a bluebird! Isn’t he beautiful?”

He raced over to look.

“I just wrote a poem about a bluebird,” I said.

“You wrote a poem?” he asked.

I nodded. “I love bluebirds so much.”

“Do you know what?” he asked.

“What?”

“Yesterday on the way to the doctor’s I saw a bluebird, and you know what?”

“No, what?” I responded.

“It was so beautiful.” He paused. “It was so beautiful, I almost cried.”

I know what you mean S.

With Gratitude to the Blue Bird

The pulse of your blue
like an animated piece of enchanted sky
free-wheeling elusive indigo
optimism on the wing

©Molly Hogan, draft