Flying

Who bashed the car door
and drove off oblivious?
A wild self flew from me,

arms out, laughing.
She came from reeds,
from life as a swan,

feathered neck, splayed
feet dabbling in scummy
foam. Birds must know

if it feels like freedom
to burst into flight, singing
together, raucous, piercing.

Or is flying like driving,
watching for dangers,
veering, braking? Like

a trip to the store for bread
and milk, buying the paper,
scanning the scores, baseball

again, one more losing season?
No. Let’s be joyous, gape open,
snag insects out of the air.

Barbara Daniels’ Talk to the Lioness was published by Casa de Cinco Hermanas Press in 2020. Daniels’ poetry has appeared in Prairie Schooner, Mid-American Review, and elsewhere. Barbara Daniels received a 2020 fellowship from the New Jersey State Council on the Arts.

© 2020