A thousand birds of black paper, pasted with glue,
Each wing sprung free carries thoughts of you.
November is wasted in rain and gloom,
My heart was poised to face uncertain doom.
Lo, the murmuration snaps back!
There in the soaring is all that I lack.
December, December, a rest! oh my darling!
Fly to me true, my own sweetest starling.
*Paper-cut book, adhesive bound, 2014, Jessica Ryan