February
snowfall
f
a
l
l
falling down
d
o
w
n
down white
molt
of Winter’s
wings.
— C.Birde, 2/23
The holidays…
That spill & wash
of extremes –
everything &
nothing,
chaos &
silence,
crowds &
isolation,
bright light &
healing dark…
The holidays –
that span of time
that left me
on the far shore
of Self,
breathless,
disoriented,
& stumbling –
have past,
& I have again,
at last regained
the holiness
of my
own
steps.
— C.Birde, 1/23
Oh, falling sky – pieces of blue
tipped black & white & falling
Crying bright reply to peanuts
clacking against dark shingles
& rattling aluminum gutters,
white painted.
Jay-filled sky in blue shadows
falling toward my outstretched
hand, emptied now, but hope-
fueled.
— C.Birde, 12/22
Uninvited,
unexpected, they arrive…
Four men – stocky & absurd,
frowning in black overcoats
& bowler hats.
Crowding into the bathroom.
Bearing, between them,
a large birdcage –
ornate wire, curled & domed.
On one perch,
a red-gold parrot;
on its twin,
a second parrot’s skeleton;
& on the cage’s floor,
a lovebird contained,
restrained,
in a cube of wire mesh.
“We done did the best we could.”
Muttering,
shuffling, the men depart as,
tumbling from its perch,
the parrot falls,
flashing red-over-gold…
The lovebird remains…
Love,
trapped —
caged within
a cage.
— C.Birde, 12/22