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Sonnets From Other Lives: Joni

A murmuring a starlings fills the sky
over the winter stubble of the valley.
Joni stops in midstride-- hypnotized.
by the avian cloud launching its wild sallies
in & out & over—fro & to
like some mindless mind mimicking chance.
What pulls at them? Does it pull at her too?
The choreographer of her own dance
has left this foetus fluttering inside
her—forcing myriad alterations to
her flight plan. She’d thought that she would glide
like a seagull, soaring easily through
a carefully considered life. Instead,
she’s bracing for the turbulence ahead