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Black Overcoat

From deep inside your black overcoat

words, like a lost bird,

are trying to find a way out—

now that you have begun

you won’t stop and I am waiting.

What is it? What happened?

A long time ago people were hurt and you caused it.

I think you said you were Sorry

or Stupid or Worried.

You were not looking at me—

but staring straight ahead

through the windshield of the car

at the night and the snow.

Trapped in a house, a bird will dive and circle back

from room to room from window to chair

any steady edge

between lifting up and landing—

flight is what comes before telling

or just after.

from Dear AllFind more by Maggie Anderson at the library

Copyright © 2017 Maggie Anderson
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, LLC on behalf of Four Way Books.

Published in Maggie Anderson Poems

This program is supported in part by a grant from the Idaho Humanities Council, a State-based program of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

Any views, findings, conclusions, or recommendations expressed in this (publication, website, exhibit, etc.) do not necessarily represent those of the Idaho Humanities Council or the National Endowment for the Humanities.