Mozart of the Prairie

I heard the tiratana on waves of tallgrass prairie
as it passed over hidebound barbed wire, careful not
to be caught on the rusted tines like an article of clothing.
Carolina chickadees flew over the fence, over me, over
the five precepts, over the pagoda. I thought of the old poet
who counted every bird he ever saw – passing at his desk,
pen in hand – the number, known only to him, rivaled
a crisp night of stars.

Originally published in Sugar House Review: Fall/Winter 2018.