The helicopter,

The helicopter,
a sort of controlled silver leaf
dropped lightly into the clearing.
The searchlights swung, the little girl,
the little girl was crying, her mother, a girl herself,
was giving birth, the forest dropped birdseeds of milk.
Then the helicopter lifted away,
the mother rested.
 
                                   Like him who came to us empty-handed,
who came, it seemed, with nothing,
Joseph Cornell—          making
a shoebox universe to put it all in.
 

Jean Valentine, "The helicopter," from Shirt in Heaven. Copyright © 2015 by Jean Valentine.  Reprinted by permission of Copper Canyon Press, www.coppercanyonpress.org.
Source: Shirt in Heaven (Copper Canyon Press, 2015)
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