Cracked open.
— C.Birde, 6/20
Undreamed — A Poem
Slideshow — A Dream
White cards,
full of breath
& space;
each,
a photo –
pristine,
immaculate –
of a snake.
Black racer.
Smooth Green.
Eastern garter.
Scaled, sleek.
Ectothermic.
Striped or
ringed;
patterned or
plain.
Rat.
Rattle.
Corn.
A slideshow
of snakes,
one after
another.
Reviled or
revered.
Poisonous
& not.
Earth.
Water.
Pine.
Coiled &
sinuous.
Undulating.
Sidewinding.
Concertina.
Rectilinear.
King.
Queen.
Copper.
Transition.
Intuition.
The deep
unconcious.
The slideshow
continues.
Snake after
snake after
snake.
— C.Birde, 6/20
Broken — An Image
“Gather up
your broken
heart.”
She spoke in green
& blossoms
& rain.
“Polish
the pieces.
Recast
the whole.”
— C.Birde, 6/20
From That Separating Space — A Poem
Stir darkness,
scatter light.
From shadows’
flutter and flux,
pluck the edges’
patterns,
those separating
places between
extremes,
gray and
overlooked.
At long last,
margins unearthed,
laid bare, and
connected.
From that space,
call my name.
From that space,
we will sing
an expectant
song…
— C.Birde, 6/20
Ghostwood — A Dream
Deep,
dark wood,
moon-bleached
and rinsed of light
of color.
Earth lifts —
root-twined,
rocky —
in slow and steady
upward arch
beneath a burden
of pines.
Gaunt figure.
Slack of limb
and wasted frame,
flame of hair and
spirit snuffed.
He shuffles unaware
in shabby slippers
and threadbare robe
between attentive,
watchful trees.
Alone.
Alone and ghostly.
Diminished.
Lost among
the elements,
whose beauty
would be magnified
did he not
haunt them
so.
— C.Birde, 6/20
Bide… — An Image
“Wait…”
She took my hand.
“Bide with me,
until understanding
grows.”
Silently,
the flowers bloomed
and held
their perfumed
breath.
— C.Birde, 5/20
Scorpion-Free — a Poem
White-footed
meets
white foot
in size seven
garden shoe.
Furred meets
furless.
Warmth to
trembling,
whiskered
warmth.
Sustained,
untrained
diaphragmatic
“E” .
Instinctive —
achievement
of breath.
No scorpions
here.
All the same,
shake out
your boots.
— C.Birde, 5/20
Tumble — An Image
“Tumble…”
She spoke in
a hundred voices,
a thousand voices;
in one.
“Fall
into the wreath
of my arms
&
remember.
Remember
l o v e.”
— C.Birde, 5/20
Stitched & Strewn — A Poem
These lush
green days
damp and cool
and stitched
with bird song
strewn like gifts
unwrapped
petals scattered
everywhere
white
chartreuse
careless pink
one thing
to do —
Thank you
thank you.
— C.Birde, 5/20
Riddle — A Dream
A riddle –
lacking keyhole,
handle, or
hinges;
An omen –
a stone rolled
‘cross a
tomb;
a door of gray boards,
sunk in the hill’s
chalk white face
and tucked beneath
a green garland of
ivy.
Exit and entry,
impossible
impractical.
Invitation in jest,
deep-set in the hill’s
soft ivied side,
behind peeling gray
boards that board up,
hide, and hoard
mysteries denied —
a riddle.
— C.Birde, 5/20