St Francis and the Birds When Francis preached love to the birds They listened, fluttered, throttled up Into the blue like a flock of words Released for fun from his holy lips. Then wheeled back, whirred about his head, Pirouetted on brothers' capes. Danced on the wing, for sheer joy played And sang, like images took flight. Which was the best poem Francis made, His argument true, his tone light.