Poor thing –

clinging

to the building’s

exterior,

slowly swinging

its heavy, blind head

back and forth,

back and forth;

small, pearl mouth,

an ‘o’ of eternal

surprise.

Large ears –

softly furred –

flopping,

dangling,

tangling

over first one

tight-shut eye,

then the

other.

So much like a snail’s —

so much larger —

the spirals of

its whorled shell are

iridescent,

agleam,

chased

with moonlight.

Pale, fleshy tentacles

sweeping,

waving,

it finds its slow,

methodical way

along the building’s

polished,

featureless,

stone

face.

Unperturbed by blindness,

immune to dark,

it knows not that

its progress is

surveilled.

For,

from within,

from the curve of

each wide step’s descent

to the landing

below –

they watch.

The observers.

Dressed in finery and

gathered —

shoulder-to-shoulder —

they press themselves

to the wall of windows,

to laugh and

point and

stare –

aghast,

perplexed,

astonished.

They pity

the creature its

grotesquery,

equate slow movement

with equally slow

thought.

Poor thing.

Poor, dear thing.

To be so scorned,

so ridiculed,

so misunderstood.

Better –

perhaps –

to have remained

undiscovered,

unseen,

hidden

away

in the

d

a

r

k.

 

— C.Birde, 6/19

 

 

 

Observe

how she stands

at the end

of the stone pier,

where earth’s bones

drop away

to the village below;

how she stares

over peaked rooftops,

each a crooked half-step

to the prowling,

lapping

sea.

Eager,

near delirious

with anticipation,

she nonetheless remains –

hands clasped to sternum –

motionless.

Unmoving,

but for her gaze,

which sweeps and

scrapes the horizon

back and forth,

like gull or

tern.

Anxious and waiting.

Impatient and

waiting.

But…

but…

When they come –

those ancient,

sinuous creatures,

luminously scaled and

leather-winged –

when they cross

the dusking sky,

churning clouds and

evoking thunder

with their passage…

Understand –

despite her earnest,

enraptured desire,

it will not be

for her.

They will not come

for her nor answer

her call.

Understand –

watching,

a pace behind and

over her right

shoulder…

Understand –

with unshakable clarity,

with neither fear

nor doubt –

for whom it is

they will

come.

 

 

— C.Birde, 6/19