She made no sound
Waited to be seen
within the flameless
burning bush
Shadow on shadow
Soot and smoke
Avian stroke of song
unsung
Each note contained
nested in gray breast
Then, as suddenly, seen
— a revelation perched
on gray-green twist
of twig.
— C.Birde, 7/21
“Hold me —
always —
in your heart…”
She smoothed
fern-laced fingertips
over my brow.
“…for those moments
when it all
feels
too
much.”
— C.Birde, 7/21
“I am vast,
expansive…
I am the smallest
of small…”
She tilted
a smile.
“I am
– like you –
a pleasant contradiction
of selves.”
— C.Birde, 7/21
“Come,”
he said,
and lead me out
beneath the bee tree’s dome.
We stood together,
wreathed
in sweet saturated scent and
downward-descending drift
of apiarian song woven through
that namesake tree’s
flower-pricked upswept
boughs.
And we were one,
and we were one,
and we are ever
one.
— C.Birde, 6/21
Apiarian hum among
spirea wands as bees
– carelessly, casually –
rearrange clusters of
blushing flowerheads
to their liking.
— C.Birde, 6/21
“I perfume
the air
with my being…”
She did not brag,
merely spoke
truth.
“You need
only
breathe.”
— C.Birde, 6/21
The sky unzips & groans –
sliced, clipped, bisected –
while, rooted below,
I struggle to parse
interrupted songs of
Eastern Wood-Pewee
Carolina Wren
Ovenbird
&
T
h
r
u
s
h.
— C.Birde, 6/21
O
milky
pearled
occluded
eye
though
turned my way
you see me
not
colored
as the spots
that dot
your twins’
fawn-colored
coats
bless you,
mother of those
two sweet
ciphers
bless you,
your strength,
your wounds,
you keen half-
sight,
& welcome.
— C.Birde, 6/21
“I will rain,
&
I will reign.”
Her voice
called storms
& stroked
stone.
“As
I
will.”
— C.Birde, 6/21
— C.Birde, 6/21
