Ink Drawing With Birds
Piñata
I imagine freeze dried living
under a glass bell – no wind, no naming
of first & last things. Weather-free.
On the window sill, a brown bird.
On the sill, the bird who looks like she sees me.
On the bird, two wings in a scissor v.
I imagine no window pane – bird in the room.
I hold out a finger for the glassed-out bird.
On the sill, preparation for flight, then flight.
Amatory
You sing, light up, become all voice & limbs.
Quilt pushed back. Bodies turning
to sky cloves, rainy heat.
Pillow talk, you in brown hands
moving sideways, limbways.
A cry, a song, a crumb.
Under eiderdown, toes push.
On the soft neck, cradling attentiveness.
Bird again on the window sill.
River
Steps taken just now leave no mark.
The wind is up, the water salivating
dumb dry shore.
Pretty duck, long steps
in sync with yours, lulling.
3, 4 more & we stop to look
out & further out where
the cargo ship sits, white waves that rock
like arms unlocking.
Plausibles
No you'll never tell
what I've told you not to tell –
I admire that about you.
Back home, you google for bird songs –
auditory download, the house blithely
chattering with it.
On the window sill, the same or a different bird –
eiderdown a plump cloud on the floor,
river weighty inside my shoe.
Friday, June 03, 2005
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
A good choice.
And a very good poem (clarifying earlier comment)
Post a Comment