The month of March on film

March 23rd

I was born into delight

But how will they know what I mean?

At times, how will they not?

For it is never the typical thing which strikes us, truly

But rather the glint

Of light

Sharp and white upon a table, a glass, anything

And the blade

(so small and unlikely) of grass

And the bird, with its blonde belly feathers

Its whistle, its levity

And your astonishment at the big brown moth

(so knowing in her stillness)

While we sat on the concrete in the springtime sun