Poem | The Migratory Birds

Fearless and warm, we stayed until
A new time swept around the hill.

The sky, so turbulent, so squalid,
Might just as well be frozen solid.

One hour, to fill all hours with pain:
Whirlpools of sleet, breakers of rain.

My head is bent in unbelief:
Nothing will come to my relief

To brood a numb and stuttering heart,
As if God set my life apart.

The tucked-up leg, the wing unfurled
Are broken on the wheel of the world.

Published in the August 15, 2014 issue: 
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Sarah Ruden has published several books, including, most recently, The Face of Water: A Translator on Beauty and Meaning in the Bible and a new translation of Augustine’s Confessions.

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