I rode to Heaven on a bird that did-
n’t look like any bird I ever saw
Before I saw it the bird’s wings were wide
And long and brightly colored and had no
Feathers but panels like glass held together
By black bones criss- crossing them from the ground
They must have looked like stained glass flying to Heaven
Church windows carrying a black bird’s wing-
less body and my body up between them
The bird’s body was black as the night sky
Was back when I was running with my momma
Before I wouldn’t run no more and she
Beat me and Mrs. Davis saw and took me
Like glass like any hard thing would’ve broke them
Copyright © 2019 Shane McCrae. This poem originally appeared in Kenyon Review, March/April 2019. Reprinted with permission of the author.