“Route 75 Traffic” — C.Birde, 2/20
Traffic bisected
the grassland’s
patchwork
in ceaseless tide.
“Only humans,”
she observed,
“will admire
a thing
to its
utter
unmaking.”
— C.Birde, 2/20
“Light Shaft (Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary)” — C.Birde, 2/20
“Cipher” — C.Birde, 2/20
We rode the air
on dark wings
glittering —
a hundred pair
(Once, we numbered
thousands)
tried,
with each beating
stroke
and the rust
of our throats
(“O, hear us,
O, listen…”)
We skirled
and soughed through
the bone-bare trees
and cried in a voice of
calamity:
“Beware!
Our cipher,
our patterns, heed.
Beware!”
Your heads
never
lifted.
— C.Birde, 2/20
“One” — C.Birde, 2/20
“Souldier” — C.Birde, 1/20
“I feel the grief
in my body,”
she said,
“a weight of tears
unshed,
to be shed.”
So Dawn draped her;
Moon crowned her;
& Foxfire
crept into her heart,
so she might
souldier on
— in light —
through the dark.
— C.Birde, 1/20
“Drama” — C.Birde, 1/20
Goosedown
lazy fall and
flutter
twirling
spiraling
earth-
ward
heedless of
phones’ sudden
synchronous
jarring
alarms.
Placid
flurry
passing
sooner
than ratcheted
pulses,
adrenaline
pumped.
Passing
sooner
than
over-
stated
“squall”.
— C.Birde, 1/20
“Inscription” — C.Birde, 12/19
“You remembered…”
Her voice sang
between the crease
of light & dark,
of autumn and winter.
“When it would be easy
— so easy, too easy —
to forget,
you
remembered.”
— C.Birde, 12/19
“Full” — C.Birde, 12/19
She let go
despair,
& the Moon
kissed her brow,
smoothed her hair,
filled her
entirely
with
l i g h t.
— C.Birde, 12/19
“Lines” — C.Birde, 12/19
The lines dipped,
converged
with their weight
of birds
strung like beads,
like notes unsung.
We pass below,
unknowing.
— C.Birde, 12/19
