by Ethel Mortenson Davis
At sunset
the birds of heaven
came in low to land.
A flock of gray and red
sandhill cranes
filled a stage-like sky
with laughter
that echoed across
the wetlands of Superior,
across the jutting gray rocks
and ragged white pine,
and through
hearts and lungs
and minds.
Note: The phrase “the birds of heaven” came from a book of that name by Peter Mathiessen.
fourwindowspress 
I can just see and hear the images now… the sign of a well-written poem.
I love this, Ethel – so visual and I can hear the “laughter” of the cranes reverberating through heart and lungs….
You do create a mental picture, Ethel; thank you…
just so eloquent!
Oh Ethel! I’m so enamored of that phrase, “Birds of Heaven”!!! Lovely poem–thank you!
Ethel, I love the ‘laughter’ of cranes – beautiful visual imagery in this piece, I felt like I was standing right there in your poem. Love this. ~ Julie xox
The visual flow of this poem is so delightful, Ethel…the ending so so perfect! Have I told you that you are one of my favorite poets of all time?