Maya Angelou, are you haunting me?

This morning I woke up trying to recite the words to “I know why the caged bird sings.” Whatever dream preceded it was long gone.

Later on, checking email, I shivered a little to see that this very poem is the poem of the day.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill/of things unknown but longed for still
The caged bird sings with a fearful trill/of things unknown but longed for still

“Caged Bird” poetryfoundation.org’s poem of the day

Does it mean something? Is the great poetess trying to communicate with me from the beyond? I don’t know yet, but since it’s on my mind, here’s a work in progress I started several months ago when Ms. Angelou flew this world.

I know why

she sings:

for the supper
she herself must make

for acknowledgement
she craves but cannot believe

for fences she never sat on

for— and against—
choices she did not make

for memory of when her voice flew free
and of when it took leave

for the children who ask always why? never
why not?

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