I could take a picture of the birds
I could take a picture of the birds.
I mean, not now. But I could have—
they were here only a moment ago.
But there would be, in that photo,
something missing. Which is: the before.
There was this long, peaceful, beautiful before.
I’d been staring at it, consumed by it
for I-don’t-know-how-long,
fifteen minutes?
Fourteen gusts of wind?
The blue and unbounded before
was critical to the astonishment
which filled me when the birds,
together and without warning,
danced into the scene
all orderly and floating in their arrow.
This way, this way, we are going this way
they chanted in unison with
each flap of the collective wing.
I could have taken a picture of the before.
I suppose I could now, since it would look
the same to you—a blue and birdless sky.
But there would be, in that photo,
something tasteless. Which is: the untrue.
A thing I have lost my appetite for entirely.
You may just have to trust me on this one,
and I know, trust is no piddling plea.
But if you will, please picture
this blue and birdless sky,
this image of the after:
possibility and direction and dancing abound.
Unbound is a publication by Elizabeth Schasel, born during the liminal eight months between finishing grad school and returning to a corporate job. The goal of Unbound is to live small and slow—read as many books as possible, go on long walks, be silly with friends, and try to figure out how to be in the world in a way that aligns with my values. I invite you to visit the full list of entries below.
Obsessssssssssed.