Spring by Sean Kelbley

SPRING

sounds of little things
unclasping, frogs

detaching

from the mud-suck
of their winter beds.

And sudden soft
announcements—

blackbirds lifting

as a flock,
their thousand wings one
drumroll in the cottoned sky

*

Sean Kelbley lives with his husband on a former state experimental farm in Appalachian southeastern Ohio, in a house they built together. He works as a primary school counselor. Sean’s poetry has appeared recently at ONE ART, Rattle, and the anthology “I Thought I Heard a Cardinal Sing: Ohio’s Appalachian Voices”, edited by Ohio Poet Laureate Kari Gunter-Seymour; and is forthcoming this summer at Still: The Journal.

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