she quakes with a thunderous joy that echoes & exalts against the gravity of cosmos
shining so brightly it hurts to look too long
though
she pierces hard surfaces with attention & the interest of blue eyes born of a thousand suns
love--curiosity brimming
though
grace becomes her care drips from fingers also swirling in an ageless
worry
that still
this is not enough to secure the unconditional
as invisible as a dried stalks in Spring's fallow field
white upon white upon a tenuous perch
this perfect goldfinch
