The dawn after you died
The cedar waxwings came
First one, then a dozen, then a throng
The cotoneaster, twenty-thousand berries strong
Supported them easily
The tree got taller as the birds got fuller
Then the empty-nester stood too tall
To see its flock dig up their leavings
From the ground below
Six feet under another tree
Twenty-thousand seconds
Since life felled you
Lies a hole waiting for you to fill it
Without warning
At precisely the same instant
The waxwings erupted
And melted among the clouds
As if pressed to some higher calling
There is nary a berry in sight
And some holes will never be filled
I’m with you, Bro
— Joshua Commander
This article appears in Miranda’s Rescue Under Scrutiny, Part 2.
