A Memorable Fancy

I wanted to be productive so I wrote a poem–

It was about Orpheus and all his birds

So every bird was in it, the linnets and thrushes,

Arctic terns, birds clear with light.

All the birds in the world

And all the birds that had ever been

Were in the poem, and you know,

It was not beautiful but terribly alive

Like a god who assumes a single shape

In sudden wind.