the ephemeral existence

Two birds in the shape of swallows

vanished during the making

of this picture. The birds were taking

their time, warbling low over the wheat

that bent its head, the route they took

towards the hills marked by a short

twitter and a longer trill.

 

Had they known to stay still

I'd have caught them on film,

but with heartbeats that raced faster

than my own, I knew better

than to force their lives

to fit the pace of mine.

 

And so this picture remembers

wheat and hills and sun but not

the birds. Let this be a lesson

in how not to merely vanish

from the Earth: slow down, stay

in one place long enough to know

you'll be remembered. Leave something

of yourself: an image or a story

or just a few words, maybe about

two birds, and strung together

like so: so the world

will know.

 

---

 

Taken with my Zero Image 2000, somewhere in the Palouse of Southeastern Washington.

 

Done