I paint a field of snow
and a man standing in it.
That’s my picture of solitude.
I paint a red bird in flight above the man.
His head is raised. I call that song.
If I paint the bird black and then another
and another until there are 5,000 blackbirds
piled on the ground, it is the sinks.
Perhaps snow covers all the blackbirds but two.
The man is drifted over by white and blue.
Two birds remain to share a black seed (once was bird)
in the snow crust. What would you call that?