“Bee Tongue” — C.Birde, 9/24
Humm of a hundred
bees…
My garden is a mess…
Contentment lives
here.
— C.Birde, 10/24
“Bee Tongue” — C.Birde, 9/24
Humm of a hundred
bees…
My garden is a mess…
Contentment lives
here.
— C.Birde, 10/24
I wore,
on my right hand,
a glove of cicadas –
glittering,
shimmering,
whirring in patterns
improbable…
A glove of dialogue,
& movement,
& transformation
undeniable…
And when I tried
to release my hand,
my fingers,
of those shrill insects,
they clicked
& chittered
& shifted
& sang;
with buzzing intent,
they bit
& stung;
endured as one;
would not be
shaken off or free,
denied or dislodged,
but rather would
r e m a i n.
— C.Birde, 8/22
“Come,”
he said,
and lead me out
beneath the bee tree’s dome.
We stood together,
wreathed
in sweet saturated scent and
downward-descending drift
of apiarian song woven through
that namesake tree’s
flower-pricked upswept
boughs.
And we were one,
and we were one,
and we are ever
one.
— C.Birde, 6/21
Tymbol roar in treetops’
tossing crowns…
Soloists joined in chorus,
cycles converging
– annual, periodic –
indifferent to expectation;
pausing only to sip
hot nectar of oak and ash,
willow and maple,
between careless verse of
antique songs
– skyward, tossed –
to the panting, radiant
dog star.
— C.Birde, 7/19
Song of August…
Summer’s slow
u n s p o o l i n g –
florid and
debauched –
sung in yawns
and thunder…
Staked or trellised,
the vines
untwine and
t
u
m
b
l
e
past
their margins.
The long exhale
arrives –
measured in
the static drone
of insects.
— C.Birde, 8/18
Fire flies…
Embers borne on
the tails of winged insects
etch our Fate on the night’s bowed back.
Fireflies.
— C.Birde, 7/18