Daddy saw one,
deep in the woods
by Wateree Swamp,
as bright as a bird
in a dream.
And maybe it was,
maybe it was a dream,
but it was also 1945,
and anything was possible:
world peace, a happy marriage,
even 1954.

Daddy knew birds
the way some people
know the alphabet
or how to gamble and win.
I believed him,
even if it was a story
he told me early on
to make me look hard
into the heart of the forest
for an extinct bird
that is not supposed to be there
just because I can.
I still believe I can.

© 

Felicia Mitchell is a poet and writer who lives in Southwest Virginia. Her work has appeared in The Examined Life Journal and Terrain, among many others. Waltzing with Horses, a collection of poems, was published by Press 53. Visit her at www.feliciamitchell.net.