Poems by Gene Hyde
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Spilling robins across the sky
The shape of the wind is a tree bending, spilling its birds.
- Wendell Berry, “Elegy”
by Gene Hyde
Gene lives in Upper French Broad River watershed in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina.
photo by Gene Hyde
Unseen, the wind is
Bending branches, spilling birds:
You can almost feel
The shape of the air.
Wings lifting in the buoyant breeze
Soaring above, then
Alighting again
Awaiting the wind, bright breasts
In the deep blue sky.
© Gene Hyde