i am you
little junco
though the dog did not chase me
though rough hands did not scoop me
from the grass
though i was not cupped protectively
to still my heart and calm my nerves
nor carried to safety
but
when you opened your beak
in rage so profound
you could not make a sound
when it looked as if you wheezed
because you could not articulate
your displeasure
your disgust at requiring rescue
then
little bird
then
i am you
Tag: bird
nature walk (20220426)
two mysterious deaths one attempted murder on the trail still the wind blows the salt scent of the ocean mixes with sweet blackberry blossoms
red red robin (20220404)
happy fat wet
he beats his wings
falls into the water
head dipping again
and again
the rain drew his
morning bath
and now there is enough
calm and sunshine
for a short break
From swallowing worms
so much joy in
so much joy from
such a small package
of feather
bone and
song
tree swallow (20210430)
at first glance
you appear blind
but this is soot in your eyes
or more specifically
soot in the feathers
around your eyes
the how of your home invasion
interests me less than the what
of your search
i have been told
you build mud houses
in the chimneys of
other’s houses
(mine also mud, of a sort)
without regard
to updrafts of hot air
or safe escape
rejoice!
you allow me to release you
to cloudy skies
you shit on my hand
in parting
which is probably
the most common
way to say goodbye
to a savior
unity (20210426)
the bird considers the
worm
song
dew
grass
looks through the pane
of glass
me
this is an animal
and it doesn’t understand
that we are separated
by a window
i do not understand
that we are not
separate
a feather the weight of the sun–20190718
i push into you
pass through you like
that episode of star trek
–which one?–
where a transporter accident
causes the crew to phase into
a parallel dimension
but still they manage to
keep their feet on the
floor of the ship
–which one?–
how do ghosts do it?
pass through walls
yet move on a slightly curved path
that ties them to the earth
like regret or obsession
is just another word for gravity
like destiny is another word for density
the stuffed birds in the taxidermist’s window
forever open their beaks
forever expand their throats in song
for never fly again
First Printing
I like to do things besides write, and I know I’ve posted at least one picture of my sculptures before. I have more, and really intend to add them. But that’s for later.
The above untitled piece is the beginning of my foray into printmaking. I created the original image by combining found sources in Photoshop and then transferring the etching to a plexiglass plate. The first two editions were in black ink, this and a partner piece in red. The entire effort is very process oriented and really requires you to be present. It’s very different from any other endeavor I’ve tried before. And a lot of fun.
beak (20170526)
the black bird has no song for me
his voice a hybrid of
dismissive laughter and
cynical certainty
still
he digs in the wet earth
for fat worms
and doesn’t complain
about the mud
on his beak
sunken eyes (20170423)
the bird sings the night sky
fading blues to pinks to
the solitary color of its heart
three trills, short
one cry, long
a heartbeat separated by chambers
struck out of order
a solitary sound of night
listen
the rustle of feathers
listen
the quiet of parting leaves
the river of the freeway
the black heart beating
——
It’s National Poetry Writing Month!
Day 23
Check out these sites:
junco (20160611)
hop, dark-eyed junco
you search for an easy meal
graduation day
Words and Feathers 