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A Curveball of Blackbirds
“Thousands of blackbirds fell out of the sky….”
—The New York Times
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Five thousand blackbirds from the sky.
____I don’t know why.
Neither do they, the EPA, State U….
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Nearby and far, nobody has a clue.
____No way, no why.
Not me, not you, not the pope or president.
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No one has the reason why, this blackbird snow.
____We just don’t know.
Just when we think we know it all: Curveball!
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Leland James is the author of five poetry collections, four children’s books in verse, and a book on creative writing and poetry craft. He has published over three hundred poems worldwide including The Lyric, Rattle, London Magazine, The South Carolina Review, The Spoon River Poetry Review, New Millennium Writings, The American Poetry Review, The Haiku Quarterly, The American Cowboy, and The Ekphrastic Review. He was the winner of the Aesthetica Creative Writing Award and has won or received honors in many other competitions, both in the USA and Europe. Leland has been featured in American Life in Poetry and was recently nominated for a Pushcart Prize.
www.lelandjamespoet.com & https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/leland-james
www.lelandjamespoet.com & https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/leland-james
Dear Leland,
Tight, short, concise and witty. My kind of poem.
I always appreciate the unknown , and see that you do, too.
After all, isn’t that what poetry is all about the little known we live with every day??
Scary!
Maybe someone was playing some of that music my son likes!
Thanks for a succinct piece of poetry that leaves the reader wondering, Leland.
Maybe the flock hit a plane or one of those windmill turbines.
How could this bird and poetry lover resist a title like that?! I like the surprise and mystery of the poem, and especially the closing line… a piece of wisdom that seems to depict these confusing times perfectly. I don’t think I want to hear all the theories on those poor birds… it might blow my already buzzing brain. Thank you, Leland.
Right. I don’t want to know either, or knowing move on to other unknowns. I have no doubt God will provide curveballs enough to never make us SURE, in the pejorative sense. Otherwise there would be no game, no need for poety. Thanks for your comment.
Bird infections are the best infections — they always sing true. I love a happy ending, and so do you. I await that happy day when we will meet halfway.