Who, who had only seen wings, 
could extrapolate the 
skinny sticks of things 
birds use for land, 
the backward way they bend, 
the silly way they stand? 
And who, only studying 
birdtracks in the sand, 
could think those little forks 
had decamped on the wind? 
So many paired things seem odd. 
Who ever would have dreamed 
the broad winged raven of despair 
would quit the air and go 
bandylegged upon the ground, 
a common crow?
Paired Things
written byKay Ryan
© Kay Ryan





