I am that flock of blackbirds, startled
taking flight
in a synchronous wave
the blast of air carrying me,
getting up under my wings
but I’m not afraid of speed
or a sudden change in direction
because I have the flock
I am the flock
and the road is the sky, unwinding
I am that horse
whose pasture rolls along, green
hills with a rising crest of mountains
I can run fast
very fast
surging past the earth, barely
touching it
as I join the herd
I am the herd
these aren’t fences that confine me
they are doorways
swinging open with each beat of my hooves
I am a clockwork woman, switching
my gears with every hill
and drop
I bend with the road
bounding forward on round legs
feet immune to the rocks
that want to slice open
tender human soles
