You Would Have Loved Today

You would have loved today, this twilight high in the wild-fever spring-bruised field. Straight young lilacs stand at the edge and hidden sentries in the cattail stalks and buttercup, daisy, Queen Anne’s lace in the stray breeze nodding. Rim of the heart first redwing blackbird calls in the tall sycamore. A pair of bluebirds swings in the windy elm. Polly is dancing, arms high, head back, as the hawk she has deemed her father glides and bows, mirroring her from his sky blown sky. The birds of twilight sing your songs. Wait in your silver cloud map for my knowing.