“The Mockingbird” by Luci Shaw

The mockingbird
is clearly not

no scornful bone in
that feather body

nor mimic
imitating other birds
or us and our
predictable indoor tunes

the bird is
pure experiment

that riff at the end
how did it go again

yes
but opening
with two new notes

variations
inventions endless and
impromptu

quicksilver

in bed in the dark
and again
we hear birdsong

liquid improbable
sun at midnight

poet’s work

the small throat’s
inevitability
and surprise

Luci Shaw
The Angles of Light: 
New & Selected Poems (2000)

Shaw-AnglesofLight

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