And so they come again this evening
to settle together in their favorite tree,
fifty or maybe twice that number,
the same black wings and yellow beaks
that lined the telephone wires last night
outside the hardware store . . .
–excerpt from “Blackbirds at Dusk” in Hanging Like Hope on the Equinox by Donna Pucciani (virtual artists collective, Chicago 2013). First published in Lost Hills Anthology.