Reading Groups

Five blackbirds sat in the corner circle,

"slow with books," Miss Noonan claimed.

Cardinals and robins crooned

the antics of Dick and prissy Jane

for extra milk and tinfoil stars

while my flock struggled. We read

aloud or doodled. I preferred

Genesis, Grit, The Atlanta Constitution

("Covers Dixie Like the Dew"),

reports of train wrecks,

Lester Maddox, Tech football

and barbecues. "Stop that cloud

gathering," her stern voice said.

Her plastic ruler slapped my hand,

but I was elsewhere, wind-borne, flying.

The splotch across my palm burned red

as the rose on a blackbird's wing.