The mountain ash now naked but for red
is to the mockingbird a berried hall
for teaching all the notes he has been fed
in earnest—this no mockery at all,
despite the poor attendance. Auditor
I interrupt myself to concentrate
on watching his tipped body ring. Indoors
there’s nothing I can learn from intricate
recital in the tree; utility
belongs to subjects much less interesting
and I am useful in my silence. He
enrolls me even so, as if to sing
were not elective but our lives’ entire
curriculum, the self an unformed choir.
–
Libby Maxey is a senior editor at Literary Mama and a winner of the 2021 Princemere Poetry Prize. Her work has appeared in Emrys, The Maynard, and elsewhere, and her chapbook, Kairos (2019), won Finishing Line Press’s New Women’s Voices contest. Her nonliterary activities include singing classical repertoire and administering the Department of Classics at Amherst College.