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Young, George, 1938- / Bird of paradise: poetry
(2011)

Poem on a mountain bluebird,   p. 21


Page 21

Poem On A Mountain Bluebird
The Navajo stones never managed such a blue as you,
nor the lips of the man
pulled from an icy river last winter.
You are a grace
never mastered by earth's bluest eye
at the foot of the glacier, open to a cloudless sky-
nor recognized by idle school children
staring out the window at what appears to be a blue ribbon
tied to a telephone wire.
You are a flash of living, breathing blue.
And Lord what am I
that such a bird can escape from the cage of my skull and fly.
21


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