Whistler – Katharine Coles

I might have married a painter,
Therefore his mother. A radar

Detector, a snow-covered
Mountain, a novel

By John Grisham not even
Out yet. No, I wed

The cop directing my rush,
Toot toot, a trainer to test

Agility, a kettle calling
Time to steep. Yes,

But I married this bird you must
Close your eyes to know

At scale, to hear his trills
And fancy arpeggios

Come-come-hithering.
His note of warning.

– Katharine Coles

(art by Erin Armstrong: Built From Glass)

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