not even a bird, only a promise,
a slash of wings caught peripherally
fifty feet away, elm to ash,
a purpled shadow in the noon lake.
–excerpt from “Bluebird, You Are” in To Sip Darjeeling at Dawn by Donna Pucciani (Virtual Artists Collective, Chicago 2011). First published in Mochila Review; subsequently translated into Chinese by William Marr and published in PoetrySky, LiPoetry Magazine, and Shichao Poetry Magazine.