BIRDS from black paper

The moon is a netting,
The sky is cold,
The shadows are getting
Dusky and bold.
The birds are letting
Their dance-legs fold.

Don’t be forgetting
An artist’s mold:
Unplanned begetting
From paper scraps rolled.
My eye saw birds settling
On ornament, gold.

I can stop fretting
When crafts are told;
For I’m betting
Cut-outs, birds, will take hold!
Silhoettes’ debting,
New ideas from old!


“Make something
Out of nothing”:
Oh, that’s art’s “fling” –
Isn’t my creating –
Just “everything”?

1/23/2011