Skip to content
“Wood Thrush Wood” — C.Birde, 6/22
Hands clasped
& pressed
to breast-
bones,
we stood –
enraptured –
as Wood Thrush
dropped
each liquid note
down through
the trees’ canopy –
like hope,
like light –
then alit
upon the path
before us
& took
his unassuming
bow.
— C.Birde, 6/22
“Atlantic (Truro)” — C.Birde, 4/22
I take my heart
to the sea
for safekeeping;
with blessings,
the pines’ sighs
pleat the air;
& the chickadees
bind us All
in song.
— C.Birde, 4/22
“Sea Path (Truro)” — C.Birde, 4/22
“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
“Song” — C.Birde, 10/21
Sing me
into Being,
a breath-born
Galatea exhaled
in the key of D
An Air carried
along air’s edge
By lips & fingers
coaxed,
untethered
Heart tempo’ed
Soul scribed
New-woven
song
of me.
— C.Birde, 10/21
“Swirl” — C.Birde, 8/21
“Remember?
When first
we beheld
one another?”
She rustled
& sighed.
“How the world
tilted ‘round
our axis…”
— C.Birde, 8/21
“Ferns” — C.Birde, 5/21
“Now
the ferns
have uncurled,
I go to join
their
green-tongued
incantation…”
A smile alit
in her soft,
wild eye.
“Come
with
me.”
— C.Birde, 5/21
“Eastern Chipmunk” — C.Birde, 5/21
To sit outdoors
in cool spring
air
wearing a shawl
of sunlight
& accomplishing
no more
than the disport
of small friends
unseen
in a season’s span,
in their garments
fresh & shining –
bliss.
— C.Birde, 5/21
“Dogwood” — C.Birde, 5/21
From the pink
dogwood,
dropping notes –
bright petals,
raindrops,
shadows
onto clear water –
that fall in explicit,
random pattern;
reclaiming
Summerland
through song –
recognizable,
indefinable.
My heart unbolts…
At last,
at last…
I’ve awaited
your
return.
— C.Birde, 5/21
“Lilacs” — C.Birde, 5/21
Lilac perfume
& swoon
of chartreuse,
pollen-ed
air…
A-swim
& stippled in
Spring’s ritual
laving…
Every pore
aware.
— C.Birde, 5/21
“Cherry Blossom” — C.Birde, 4/21
“I am,”
she said
with sly smile
& wink,
“quite literally
living in the
(yellow-white-violet)
pink…”
— C.Birde, 4/2