flit [sparrow]

a ghost garden      last year’s      still blooms 
              on the patio             an undying marigold 
lanky rosemary                 rose-scented

geranium       all having survived this 
           unsown year 
                                           and a shadow moves 
among those leaves       fleet in rising sun

I turn to it        and it has gone 
                       pancakes cool on my plate     I’m reading 
          and eating alone 
                                               my husband having taken 
a last October ride      he says           I could bundle up

but I don’t see any reason to 
                                                                        there 
          another pass of        I don’t know what 
door panes squaring its flit

that ghost is the second     possibility I consider 
            is telling      telling              I say to myself 
I could not believe in ghosts       but I don’t see

any reason to 
                                              a bird materializes 
               on the chair outside           wholly in shadow 
there and not there

                                                  I want to have you again 
as ghost even          to keep you with me 
             glimpse or glance 
                                                                  corporeal 
bird                  a perfect explanation 
fine then                                 I want to have you 
as a bird                     I will tell you 
           what I have to say      in bird language 
I think I could learn it 
                                              like eternal vows I’ve made 
if eternity       is a shadow that flickers 
           a bird away               a ghost 
in the corner of my eye