Lydia’s — A Dream

An artfully altered photo of a fawn, lying curled amidst green growth.
“Fawn” — C.Birde, 5/21

To lie

in soft grass,

slim green tongues

whispering

against ankles,

arms, & legs,

weaving

through hair &

white gauze gown

Body curved –

O, earthbound slip of

crescent Moon –

about the creature’s

small & delicate form

Tawny-furred &

white-star-spotted,

large soft ears

folded back against

elongated skull,

stilt legs bent

at sharp angles,

tail & flint hooves

tucked

And to know,

all in a rush –

like song & sunrise

& oak groves &

oceans –

that, in life,

this fawn was Hers

was Hers

H e r s

She is gone two years.

But O, Her fawn

endures.

— C.Birde, 2/22

Fallow — An Image

An artfully altered photo of a wooded space...a foreground of young, pale-leaved beech trees, and a carpet of dried leaves below.
“Fallow” — C.Birde, 2/22

“Soon,

soon…”

She spoke

from a space betwixt

sleep & waking.

“I will exchange

this fallow Winter gown

for one

of green-tendrilled

Spring…”

— C.Birde, 2/22

Boa of Light — A Dream

An artful altered photo of a journal page with a line drawing of a seahorse...
“Boa of Light” — C.Birde, 2/22

From above,

a boa of light descends

to encircle her neck

& drape her left shoulder –

l o o s e l y…

See,

within this buoyant

tumble of golden light,

innumerable seahorses –

bobbing, swimming –

necks tucked inward,

tails curling, uncurling,

dorsal & pectoral fins

fanning air & propelling

delicate-ridged bodies

back upstream

to the light’s source

Amidst this,

she sits, smiling,

festooned

in the seahorses’

gyre & shimmer,

wreathed

in the radiance

of her own

h

 e

  a

    l

     i

      n

        g.

— C.Birde, 2/22

Winter-ish — An Image

An artfully altered photo of a puddle of raindrops collecting at the base of an old Maple's roots.
“Winter-ish, February” — C.Birde, 2/22

“I remember

when Winter met me

with a veil of frost,

a cloak of snow…”

She exhaled

a misted breath.

“Now,

He greets me

with a fall

of tears.”

— C.Birde, 2/22

Jouissance — A Poem

An artfully altered photo of a silver teacup & saucer on an oak tabletop, catching morning light through a large bay window.
“Tea, Light” — C.Birde, 1/22

I sit

at smooth-planed oak,

mid-morning light

wandering through

bowed glass,

& listen —

to the curl of his voice

& the River’s sigh,

& the small birds’

close observations;

& listening,

I weep.

— C.Birde, 1/22

Archie Leach — A Dream

An artfully altered photo, taken of a television screen while watching a movie, of Cary Grant.
“A.Leach” — C.Birde, 1/22

Who are you to me,

Mister Leach?

That you glide

from nostalgia’s

silver screen?

Stride languidly

through Dream plains

of wild Psyche?

Debonair in style,

urbane of gesture,

smooth-suited

& Brylcreemed

to characteristic

perfection;

utterly untouched

by Time’s pitiless

transit

Coy-smile flirtation

Determinedly

searching for…

questioning…

Dream within dream,

thrice calling.

Ever & always welcome,

dear Mister Leach –

please, do visit again.

Still, waking curiosity

compels:

Who are you to me?

— C.Birde, 1/22

Lullaby — An Image

A close-up photograph of birds' footprints in snow.
“Lullaby” — C.Birde, 1/22

“Your small cousins

have composed

a new lullaby…”

She shifted

beneath

snowy blankets.

“Let’s sing…

Together…”

— C.Birde, 1/22

Primeval — A Dream

An artfully altered photo of a giant Sequoia, soaring skyward.
“Primeval” — C.Birde, 7/17

Trees primeval upward soar,

exceed the vast sky’s vault

Thunderous in size

Forthright

Unbent

They filter thrumming veins

of green-gold, dusted light

Press palms to rough-furred

sorrel bark while standing

ankle-deep in moss & slow-

uncurling ferns & hear –

like a breath against the skull –

soft inquiry:

“Moon or Sword?

    What will you place in

     my heartwood?

     Which will be your gift

     of me?”

— C.Birde, 1/22

Her Dreaming — An Image

An artfully altered photo of a watery surface, rippled with motion.
“Dream” –C.Birde, 1/22

“I dream…

of deep green mosses,

ouroboros,

& bright motes

of light…”

At rest between

thresholds,

she sighed through

sleep’s keyhole.

“I dream

of

y o u.”

— C.Birde, 1/22

North Star — A Dream

An artfully altered photo of a quick, loose sketch of a line-drawn star encased in rainbow hues.
“North Star” — C.Birde,1/22

On smooth blacktop

before the barricade,

he waits –

I, beside him –

as the clerk

(severe in appearance

& attitude)

returns again…

Third trip to & from

the store,

he attempts, now,

to bend influence

toward the piece

he has selected

& presents.

No.

Enough of this.

We leave together.

For I possess not one,

but two North Stars –

the first resides

in my right ear;

the other rests

(unworn)

on green velvet,

in a small chest of wood.

“You, my love,” I say,

& guide him through

the empty lot,

away,

“will have the second.”

— C.Birde, 1/22