Hollows — A Dream

An artfully altered photo of a hand and forearm, outstretched in open-palm gesture.
“Gesture” — C.Birde, 12/21

Plush dark…

Through this obscurity,

slowly, the forearm arcs

& scythes,

wrist rotating outward

in sinuous motion until

the palm cups skyward

(gibbous moon gesture)

& fingertips, at length,

draw into line the nest…

A compact bird’s nest,

expertly woven of twigs

& grass & random fibers,

its hollow delicately lined

& not-quite-wholly-filled…

At rest within its center,

a singular egg of pale blue



Two hollows,

full of expectation….

Empty hand & nest…

— C.Birde, 12/21

Antidotes — A Poem

Lilac promise.jpg

“Lilac” — C.Birde, 4/17


Walk with me

beneath the bud-tipped spruce –

we’ll lift our hands to collect

the crows’ bewildered calls,

still hoarse

with the memory of

recent snow.

We’ll bend to sip sweet rain

from crocuses and watch

the ferns’ fronds slow unfurling.

Inhale, with me, the lilacs’ promise.

While Mourning Cloaks –

clad in lush dark velvet –

flit and glide about us,

we’ll decipher their

orphic patterns.

For a moment,

we’ll remember;

for a moment,

we’ll forget.


— C.Birde, 4/17


Trillium — An Image


“Trillium” — C.Birde, 4/17

Trillium waited

in the garden’s corner.

She smoothed the rain from her brow,

shook out her frock,

and —

in her own time,

in her own fashion —




— C.Birde, 4/17


Awaken — A Poem

Awaken 2.jpg

“Awaken” — C.Birde, 4/17



listen –

don’t insist she

shout for your


You are one.

Her vast rivers flow

through your constricted veins;

Her mountains comprise

your bones,

grown porous;

Her forests guide

your too-shallow breath;

Those wild and untamed places

that reside in your



are hers.

Don’t make her shout —

when her mouth is full

of flowers

and her breath


when her touch is

a caress

of budding green.

Bend your ear to hear

her song issue

from the messenger

throats of birds.

Place your feet in her steps,

against her heart’s

steadying beat.

Cherish and protect her.

Remember yourself.

Revive and awaken.

Do not insist

she shout.


— C.Birde, 4/17


Chroma — A Poem


Dandelion, pre-wish.jpg

“Dandelion — Pre-Wish” — C.Birde, 4/17


Spears of forsythia throwing light,

Daffodils’ heraldic shout.

Canaries and warblers

and precious metal finches —

melodic color caught in song.

Bellies and fevers,

jaundice and joy.

Color of yield signs, double lines,

#2 pencils and school buses;

of taxis and Playbills,

raincoats and wellingtons.

Bright topaz and citrine and

slow-trapping amber.

Too-short hectic flash

of sulphurs and swallowtails.

Industrious bees, pollen, and honey.

Primary – and companion –

color of Spring.

Color of teapots and lemons,

beaten eggs, butter, and cake.

Color of zinc paint,

slope-shouldered haystacks,

of sunflowers

and skewwhiff bedrooms.

Bold, pouring sunshine

and pre-wish dandelions.

Dilute color of stars and moons

and soft candlelight;

of delight and wonder.



— C.Birde, 4/17

Teacups & Thimbles — A Poem


“Snowdrops” — C.Birde, 4/17



silver thimbles,

nor expanding


can contain our

unfolding griefs,

So let us sit —

eyes dampening,

knee to knee —

over cups of rosy tea

and drink

to all that is good and

precious and


in the lives we

weave together,



— C.Birde, 4/17


Misted — A Poem

Thruway Apple Trees.jpg

“Thruway Apple Trees” — C.Birde, 3/17




the mist descends —



Veil of furred-moisture.

The world at large


from sharp-edged


Hills to be climbed

are reduced to


Trees to




— C.Birde, 3/17