Ecopoem by Leisha Douglas

Sound out        in the language of crows

Be                        the black bladed omen

strut                   with no particular purpose

or perch           atop a branch or telephone pole

sparrows and finches                   will dive and circle

to humans         hurtling by         in their bodies of metal

you are a slash                                punctuating sky

They don’t know                           your devotion

to a mate                                      as well as to others

nor how you transform debris                               into nest and feast

What if this is Heaven?

You                     the feathered Lord?

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Jeremiah Walton

Jeremiah Walton is wary of writing a bio.

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