Yellow — An Image

An up-close photo of a yellow daffodil.
“Daffodil” — C.Birde, 4/21

“In yellow,

I rejoice,”

she swept her arms

wide as her

grin,

“You will see me

a’thrill

in each daffodil &

forsythia,

each dandelion &

goldfinch

returning.”

— C.Birde, 4/21

Twilight Song — A Poem

Photo of a Bradford Pear Tree's pink budding branch tips.
“Twilight” — C.Birde, 4/21

Wash

the trees’

tight buds

in pink blush

of twilight

& whisper

in sweet hyacinth

breath.

Tidal spring,

engulf us all.

Sweep

up our hearts

in a swoon

of petals’

drift.

— C.Birde, 4/21

Visit — A Dream

An altered photo of my dear friend.
“L” — C.Birde, 4/21

So grateful

for your visit,

so many months

since your last.

A full year since…

Over a year…

Seeing you at all –

as you were,

as always you will be

in memory –

is Gift enough.

Even if

you don’t speak,

don’t see me,

don’t stay.

Grateful,

all the

same.

— C.Birde, 4/21

Daffodil Song — An Image

A photograph of bright yellow daffodils in full bloom.
“Daffodils” — C.Birde, 4/21

“I may weep &

lash out

in wind &

thunder,”

she placed

a wreath

of dappled light

upon my brow,

“but

I will always

sing to you again

in hyacinths &

daffodils.”

-- C.Birde, 4/21

Cassia-Purrah — A Poem

A plump calico cat lying in a patch of sunlight.
“Cassia-Purrah” — C.Birde, 3/21

Do not mistake her soft tone

for genteel invitation;

cruel evidence I have seen

of small, misguided rodents

swallowed whole.

And you, sweet-feathered one,

preening beyond glass barrier,

would be no rare exception.

Disbelieve her call.

Within warm wash of light,

she lies always attentive –

eyes slit, ears a’twitch,

hostilities belied by tail’s flick,

by rumble, croon, and mew.

Believe me when I warn –

concealed in her tri-color coat

of fur she holds cruel daggers

to swipe and catch and eat you.

— C.Birde, 3/21

Misted — An Image

A photo of a misted, foggy path through a scrubby woodland.
“Misted” — An Image

“Here –”

She breathed

a cloak of mist

about my

shoulders.

“This will reveal

the places

in-between…”

— C.Birde, 3/2

Crocus Heart — A Poem

Photo of a woman's shadow cast upon a bed of autumn leaves and new spring growth, with a purple crocus blooming where the shadow's heart would be.
“Crocus Heart” — C.Birde, 3/21

Crocus heart,

abloom

with the pulse

of Spring’s

footfall,

renewed.

Never cease

to beat

in this constricted

frame of thought

& sinew –

remain.

Always remain.

Forever wash

my gaze

in your vernal,

violet hue.

— C.Birde, 3/21

Assignment, Cake — A Dream

At atmospheric photo of leafless trees at night crowding around a pool of yellow light.
“Atmosphere” — C.Birde, 3/21

Sent out…

away from this

bright impersonal

space

with all its

glittering crosstalk

& hectic motion…

Cast out…

into umbrous night

& with an errand tasked:

return with cake…

Pavement,

heaved & crack’d & bound

around in encroaching,

tangled trees that bow

& rub together limbs

all but leafless…

And,

at the farthest end –

near swallowed up

in starless scrub –

a structure…

O, architectural wonder!

Entirely comprised

of swoops

     & swirls

          & curves

of hammered metal

sheets symmetrically

arranged to either side

of a single, central

door…

And,

above this fabulous

entry’s lintel –

nested amidst curls &

intersecting twines

of metal –

an enormous lemon,

all aglow in halo

of soft yellow

light…

Indeed,

the only light to move

or chase throughout

the whole benighted

place.

But,

nowhere,

anywhere at all,

a single frosted piece

of cake

in sight.

— C.Birde, 3/21

Maple Dryad — An Image

A photo of a leafless maple tree in a marsh.
“Maple Dryad” — C.Birde, 3/21

“I am light –“

she spoke

in scintillating

spectrum,

“drape me

about your shoulders.

I am rain & fog & snow —

quench your thirst.

I am wind —

hear me.

Together,

we are

whole.”

— C.Birde, 3/21

Streaming — A Poem

An augmented photo of a stream coursing past mossy stones.
“Stream” — C.Birde, 3/21

Dig

Dig in

Digging

     deep

The damp

     pools

          seeps

     through

shifted

     soil

Layers

of earthen

garment

     moved

Break

     through

The silver

     stream

          below,

     nested in

a sandy

     bed

of intuition,

courses,

un

     re

          strain

ed,

like a vein

     of song.

— C.Birde, 3/21