The Lost — A Poem

“Northern Flicker” — C.Birde, 7/20

Things I have lost,

in no particular order:

books & keys & histories;

my halo,

my high horse,

the chip on my shoulder;

pets & friends;

a father, a sister;

my heart,

my head,

my way,

my youth;

sense of self;

an unobstructed view;

faith & trust & confidence;

my grip,

my patience,

my tolerance;

all my defenses &

sense of direction;

I’ve lost count,

lost track,

lost face;

my perspective,

my chances,

my edge.

But of all the things here —

accounted for & overlooked,

irreplaceable or inherent —

I have never lost

your Love,

nor my love

for you.

— C.Birde, 7/20

Conjuring Light — A Poem

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“Conjuration” — C.Birde, 11/18

 

Light

slips through our

grasp…

Each hour of each day —

paler, thinner,

more threadbare than

its yesterday.

Plumed

in solar flares,

our tongues regale each other

with half-remembered

tales of milder days —

songs of Crow and Centaurus,

and the Great Bear,

of the Herdsman

and his starry flock

spread across the night sky’s

vast backdrop.

Frost-touched,

we’ll pause together

at Winters’ gate and,

reminiscing,

conjure

light.

 

— C.Birde, 11/18

 

Found, Never Lost — A Poem

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“Self Portrait, Shadow & Pink Granite” — C.Birde, 10/18

 

 

Dark uncoiling

of slim

ring-necked snake

Shadow

of peregrine cast

in a rush

over blushing

stone

Porcupine quills,

strewn

like toothpicks,

like pick-up sticks

Wild turkeys,

rusticating

Poised

in autumnal air,

a Kingfisher –

hovering,

hovering,

diving

into wind-ruffled

water

Yellow witch’s

butter

Bright scarlet curve

of salamander

tucked amidst

leaf-fall

The red squirrels’

constant scolding

Myself,

returned,

renewed,

restored.

 

— C.Birde, 10/18

 

 

Constant — A Poem

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“Linden Light” — C.Birde, 9/18

 

Change

if you must

exchange your

limits —

imposed,

self-fashioned —

for broader

space.

Ivy embraces

the picket fence

and moss creeps

over stone.

Slow patter of rain

carves its own

sweet route.

Change

if you must,

if you wish.

But never forget —

small as I am —

that I have always

loved you.

 

— C.Birde, 9/18

 

Retreat — A Poem

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“Rose” — C.Birde, 2/18

 

I will retreat

to a rose-covered cottage,

pull the fern door

closed and

draw the ivied curtains.

And only those

who hold birdsong

in their mouths

and wear the breeze’s

honeysuckled breath

in their hearts

may enter.

Only those

who bear

love

❤️

 

— C.Birde, 2/18

 

 

Wintersong — A Poem

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“Wintersong” — C.Birde, 1/18

 

Sing softly,

sweetly to Winter –

that bare-boned,

pared-raw

season of ragged echoes.

Curl your lips round

the North wind,

round those clear

bright notes,

and,

with sweet ardor,

sing.

 

 

— C.Birde, 1/9/18