Glove — A Dream

A close-up photo of an adult cicada.
“Cicada” — C.Birde, 8/22

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

Bee Tree Psalm — A Poem

An artfully altered photo, looking up through the sunlit branches of a Linden Tree, aka American Basswood, aka Bee Tree.
“Bee Tree (Linden)” — C.Birde, 6/21

“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

Cicadasong — A Poem

Cicada.jpeg
“Cicada” — C.Birde, 7/19

 

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

 

August Song — A Poem

Vines.png
“Clematis Virginiana” — C.Birde, 8/18

 

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

 

Tendrils.jpg
“Tendrils” — C.Birde, 8/18