Blackbird

The hills have buried the day

in this nondescript dawn. Stillness muffles

even the language of sparrows in the hedge.

The paving stones are damp with dew,

and ivy shakes on the wooden fence.

Blackbird, where is your song?

–Excerpt from “Blackbird” in Edges by Donna Pucciani (Purple Flag, Chicago, 2016). First published in Wichita Falls Literary and Arts Review.

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