PHYLLIS BECK KATZ, POET
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POEMS/ Changes

choir boy
Changes

Hope is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul
 —Emily Dickinson


I know that they will fly away
in autumn skies, those feathered
choristers, leaving emptiness
perched on naked boughs.

I feel wings beating
in my bones.

As the leaves fall, in treetops
stragglers search for food
to fatten for the long flight,
their wordless tunes un-tuned.

I am putting away my summer,
storing it in boxes.

They depart in a chill night sky
searching for southern warmth,
winged shadows across the moon’s
bright lantern.

This poem appears in Migrations (Antrim House, 2013)

Copyright 2018, Phyllis Beck Katz. All rights reserved.