Again,
the grind
and grumble
of saw and blade
disturb.
Air parts,
earth trembles;
Bark,
phloem,
cambium,
sapwood,
heartwood —
bitten,
pierced
and chewed
in joyless
hunger.
Sentinel Maples
or Evergreen Guard,
Merriam or
Addis Oak,
Hickory
or Treebeard –
When next I walk,
whose absence
will
I mark?
— C.Birde, 2/17
Snow,
sand,
sea;
surf,
sky, and
shadow —
Alliteration in
sequential
steps.
— C.Birde, 2/17
Winter wind
and
light,
strained through
needle
and
compact cone,
bear
the Ocean’s
breath.
— C.Birde, 2/17
Scythe of Winter —
wind that lashes,
scours,
cleans;
sweeps the path
clear
of excess;
prepares space
for tender,
new
growth.
— C.Birde, 2/17
Winter arrived —
fashionably late —
and spread her
glittering,
white-trimmed mantle
without haste,
so all observing
might recall,
in awe,
her beauty.
— C.Birde, 2/17
Whether kind
or cruel,
helpful
or hindrance,
generous
or self-serving,
compassionate
or hard-hearted,
Whether we include
or isolate,
build bridges
or erect walls,
We experience mortality
in union
with all
creatures.
And the shadows
we cast
betray
our
actions.
— C.Birde, 2/17
Dawn arrives,
despite the wounds,
the worry.
An invitation
to renew hope,
to begin
again.
— C.Birde, 2/17
Yesterday,
it snowed —
one inch,
two,
of thick white
flakes
so softly laid.
Yet today,
the blades
of fallow grass
thrust
through.
— C.Birde, 2/17
Venerable Red Oak,
left undisturbed,
allowed
space and time
to stretch roots,
limbs,
trunk,
to grow
old.
— C.Birde, 1/17
Overhead,
wings spread to finger
updraft and lift,
they call —
And I cannot help
but try to count
the numbers
of their ragged “V”,
as if the sum
of beaks,
eyes,
wings,
feathers
would reveal answers
to mysteries
ever sought,
ever felt,
rarely
seen.
— C.Birde, 1/17