Trying to Understand the Patriot Act


Where I’ve been pulling stone from the edge
of the field, a mother killdeer screams at me.
She tries desperately to get my attention, pretends

her right wing is broken, letting it flop like a flag
at half-mast.  Her nest must be near, but I don’t see it,
nor hear the young she seeks to protect.  When I come

too close to turn over a stone, judge its weight,
decide whether I can lift it into the bed of the truck,
she flies hard, up and away, banking, then drawing

a perfect circle across the field, showing me
the shape of air in the presence of fear.




Todd Davis
(c)Todd Davis, 2006