
“Brocade”
by Jane Hirshfield
All day wondering
if I’ve become useless.
All day the osprey
white and black,
carrying
big dry sticks without leaves.
Late, I say to my pride,
You think you’re the feathered part
of this don’t you?
“Brocade”
by Jane Hirshfield
All day wondering
if I’ve become useless.
All day the osprey
white and black,
carrying
big dry sticks without leaves.
Late, I say to my pride,
You think you’re the feathered part
of this don’t you?