How we might notice one then glance
around for another or, more relaxed,
anything black and white: a cow
in a distant field, an occasional priest
in full uniform. The reassurance
of joy ahead can be enough to lull
us into complacency. The single magpie
can set the day on edge.
We can look away,
pretend we didn't notice. Larger gatherings
can have us muttering beneath our breath
the stations of the rhyme: gold? A secret
never to be told? Such precise
predictions lead to doubt, our eyes
past ominous birds to a clear
patch of sky, a revelation
of how things go beyond us, flying off
in all directions. Closer in we see
the green blue feathers dazzling.