Little star dreams in the trees laden with hard green fruit

Paint faded porch steps and cool fan air

Little shadow of me grows longer by night—

There’s a bird singing in the indigo

When bridges and towers are tumbling down

When fire rips and snakes of smoke sparks fly upwards.

There’s a bird singing in the indigo

Softer than a prayer, stronger than a lullaby

When the invisible germ ravages cities

When the children’s faces have nowhere to hide.

I believe

A bird sings in the indigo

Solid

Not hope—

A bird

Paints our souls indigo

Leaving us all beautiful nights

To hide inside.

Bird in the indigo,

Night inside us.

Listen.