Poetry corner

Working on a website for the amazing photographer David Grimes, and our discussions on his influences led to talk of Billy Collins, his favorite poet. I am woefully ignorant on poetry (especially for a girl who used to scribble verses in 5th grade), but I have always loved this one: Charles Smith: "The Meaning Of Birds" From "Indistinguishable From The Darkness" Of the genesis of birds we know nothing, save the legend they are descended from reptiles: flying, snap-jawed lizards that have somehow taken to air. ...But what does it matter anyway how they got up high...? ...We are often far from home in a dark town, and our griefs are difficult to translate into a language understood by others. ...But still, it is morning again, this day. In the flowering trees the birds take up their indifferent, elegant cries. Look around. Perhaps it isn’t too late to make a fool of yourself again. Perhaps it isn’t too late to flap your arms and cry out, to give one more cracked rendition of your singular, aspirant song. Oddly, I first read this poem in an article on Jack Nicholson in Vanity Fair. It's one of his favorites, too.