Child

Yellow birds thatched her head with wings; her eyes

Were a flight of bluejays flicketing through one wood

And chanting the idiom scrawled in a blue sunrise.

Snowbirds gave hush to her hands, and her singing blood

Was a covey of redbirds flashing in a silken net:

When out of the east that hawk of the midnight hood

Stooped over the redbirds caught in a thicket of the set

Of the sun, and covered with a death-wing's dark his brood.