Dusk sinking into leopard print
that is the sky that is tonight. Around us,
low echoes dress in violet light, and we too,
dream of the hundreds of blue birds that
have come before us, shed feather and wing
against dawn’s orange tongue: a tribute
for spring whispering soft don’t leave, not yet,
come back. In morning, we rise
inside the swollen laughter of green bulb
and watch sky welcome sun welcome
bird, blue wing, all flight. I dream only this:
a thousand more dawns, spread across pools
of grass on days like this that are tonight;
on days like this where you dream daffodil,
where you dream heat and flush and beak;
on days where bells are blue bird mouths,
on days like this, that are tonight.
Klishch, an English major, was recognized in April with the Edna Meudt Memorial Award from the National Federation of State Poetry Societies.