“When
the slow greening
calls,”
— arms extended,
she spread
her budding,
blooming
veil –
“what choice
have you
but to
answer?”
— C.Birde, 5/21
The Greening — An Image
flash fiction
Apollo — A Dream
Hurled,
I hurtle
past all known limits,
past boundaries prescribed
by time & role & habit
Breaking through
Breaking out
to soar
past cosmic clouds &
dust-filled nebulae
of scintillate light
God of Sun —
of Truth & Prophecy,
of Poetry, Music, Dance,
& Archery
My trajectory charts
the collapse of Time
in adrenaline speed
I am Apollo
What have I to fear?
Yet, I tremble…
tremble in unease
that the eyes of those
who hurled me forth
might glimpse the light
that sheens & skims
reflective on
my polished skin
That to catch their eye,
their vigilant attention,
might reel me
back
& in…
— C.Birde, 5/21
In Pink — An Image
“I am,”
she said
with sly smile
& wink,
“quite literally
living in the
(yellow-white-violet)
pink…”
— C.Birde, 4/2
Entrusted — An Image
“Yes,
I know…”
Even as she spoke,
her infinite heart
entrusted its pulse
to all things.
“O, yes,
I’ve missed you,
too.”
— C.Birde, 4/21
Eviction — A Dream
Evicted.
Expelled.
Dispossessed
of that old house
on the hill.
Three stories
of tilting timeworn
clapboard
& peeling paint
flaking over tired
green grass.
Seize it. Take it.
And welcome.
It matters not at all.
For in the moonless
night-spangled
dark,
I moved (removed),
like guileless wind,
all small & coveted
prized possessions –
a whole life’s worth
of work & soul
& pulsing wounded
heart –
to the small brown
bungalow nested
oh-so-sweetly
in the valley
below.
— C.Birde, 4/21
Green-Tongued Song — An Image
“Sing with me”,
she trilled,
“our tongues curling
‘round each fleet,
green note;
‘round the tender sound
of each new leaf
unfurling…”
— C.Birde, 4/21
Yellow — An Image
“In yellow,
I rejoice,”
she swept her arms
wide as her
grin,
“You will see me
a’thrill
in each daffodil &
forsythia,
each dandelion &
goldfinch
returning.”
— C.Birde, 4/21
Daffodil Song — An Image
“I may weep &
lash out
in wind &
thunder,”
she placed
a wreath
of dappled light
upon my brow,
“but
I will always
sing to you again
in hyacinths &
daffodils.”
-- C.Birde, 4/21
Misted — An Image
“Here –”
She breathed
a cloak of mist
about my
shoulders.
“This will reveal
the places
in-between…”
— C.Birde, 3/2
Assignment, Cake — A Dream
Sent out…
away from this
bright impersonal
space
with all its
glittering crosstalk
& hectic motion…
Cast out…
into umbrous night
& with an errand tasked:
return with cake…
Pavement,
heaved & crack’d & bound
around in encroaching,
tangled trees that bow
& rub together limbs
all but leafless…
And,
at the farthest end –
near swallowed up
in starless scrub –
a structure…
O, architectural wonder!
Entirely comprised
of swoops
& swirls
& curves
of hammered metal
sheets symmetrically
arranged to either side
of a single, central
door…
And,
above this fabulous
entry’s lintel –
nested amidst curls &
intersecting twines
of metal –
an enormous lemon,
all aglow in halo
of soft yellow
light…
Indeed,
the only light to move
or chase throughout
the whole benighted
place.
But,
nowhere,
anywhere at all,
a single frosted piece
of cake
in sight.
— C.Birde, 3/21
