carduelis, carduelis

if i die in my sleep tonight,

i pray i am reincarnated,

as the goldfinch in the tree in my back garden.

i lean out of my window and call out to it,

“where are you?”

“i can hear you,”

“but i can’t see you.”

“you don’t need to hide from me.”

“i want what you want.”

“and what i want is for you to be happy.”

“i love your song.”

“where are you?”

without any warning it leaps,

flying off and up and away.

it flies in waves over fences,

and i wave back.