
Chains…
of Andromeda,
broken
into bloom.
— C.Birde, 3/23
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
Distance reveals
the web’s complexity
of form –
those anchors of support,
the strands that spiral
in & down;
Grants the space to see
the pattern of the weave –
the warp & weft of whys,
wherefores that catch
upon proximity.
Grateful of perspective –
room to feel & breathe;
Anxiety of being held
forever fixed in place,
subtracted.
— C.Birde, 1/22