Auctioneer — A Poem

Screenshot_2019-05-22-10-15-46~2.png

“Home” — C.Birde, 5/19

 

Each year,

in out-sized voice,

he makes his

declaration;

small, bold auctioneer

rapidly proclaiming

his fine qualities

and wares –

twig-and-stick

nest sites

of considerable

envy.

Yet,

when the song

has threaded through

privet and azalea,

when negotiations

are exchanged,

decisions made

and settled —

despite my hopes,

my efforts to

accommodate —

another site is —

doubtlessly,

regrettably —

selected.

 

— C.Birde, 5/19

 

 

At Last — A Poem

IMG_20190508_121248_011.jpg

“Catbird Seat” — C.Birde, 5/19

 

Returned

– at last –

that sweet-voiced

family.

Descendants.,

all.

Clad in morning

coats and caps,

feathered gray.

Now,

I will put away

– at last –

winter’s bleak

attire,

remove my heart

from safeguarded

place,

return it

– at last –

to its nestspace

betwixt my ribs.

At last.

 

— C.Birde, 5/19

 

 

Quickening — A Poem

Damp Roots -- 3:16.jpg

“Quickening” — C.Birde, 3/19

 

Long awaited.

Realized,

recognized

– at last –

in quickening

earth

(beat & breath of loamy

heart),

resurgent

song

(trill & tremor in airborne

throats),

in bud and flower

and greening

leaf

(stretch & shift toward expanding

light).

Spring arrives

– gift-wrapped –

on our

doorsteps.

Compose your

thank-yous accordingly.

Address them

to each

blushing hour,

each mischief curl

of breeze.

— C.Birde, 3/19