The Black Skimmer working its way

close to shore — too close

for the Red Knots that arrived

last night from Argentina

5000 miles away and just

want to stuff themselves

for the next 2000 mile flight

and ignore the soaring Osprey

scanning for fish it will teach

how to fly. Back home,

at 60 wing beats per second,

the hummingbirds are raising a family

and chase bees, whose wing beats

are also a blur, off the flowers.

We are stuck down here

and can only fly in dreams

that let us jump off some cliff

over some sea we’ve created

and just hold out our arms

to steer our flight.

We can look down

on our motionless bodies

that some say on the last day

will rise in rapture —

but we are already surrounded by wings.