
Spring’s light veiled in Winter clouds,
and birds’ songs dovetail —
Redwing Blackbirds transitioning
with Slate-colored Juncos.
— C.Birde, 3/17

Spring’s light veiled in Winter clouds,
and birds’ songs dovetail —
Redwing Blackbirds transitioning
with Slate-colored Juncos.
— C.Birde, 3/17

She stands in snow,
toes encouraging
new green
growth.
Dash or linger —
she is undecided,
and casts
a glance
over her shoulder.
The lion’s roar is
caught
in her hair.
In one hand she holds
a small suitcase;
in the other,
a bouquet of feral
blooms.
We hold our breath —
She bends to open,
at last, the case;
and releases
Vernal
light.
— C.Birde, 3/17

Mother Nature’s
blanket reminder
that even we
must rest —
Snow.
— C.Birde, 3/17

March –
Mars,
Martius –
Caught betwixt
winter and spring,
hurling crocuses one day,
storm-born snow the next.
A month at odds
with itself,
conquest and
new growth
folded into
its very
name.
— C.Birde, 3/17


She pulls
the blankets up,
tucks us in,
and encourages us —
just a little longer —
to rest.
— C.Birde, 3/17

Earth’s bones —
rugged and worn —
harbor trees and leaf litter,
shadows and
history.
— C.Birde, 3/17

Dark star’s
collapse,
plummet
and crash.
Bones
broken,
protest
choked.
Wings tight-
folded,
neck arched
in sharp crescent;
plucked feathers
spread over green-
bladed grass.
Dark-bodied
constellation
pricks and studs
surrounding
trees,
mourns
in raucous,
full-throated,
voice.
— C.Birde, 3/1


It is with a heavy heart that I bear news of Treebeard’s passing. He was felled Wednesday, February 22, 2017. Treebeard was lifelong resident of Greenwood Cemetery, Boonton, and quite possibly, he had made his home there prior to the Cemetery’s establishment in 1876. We became acquainted in his twilight years, twenty-six years ago, and I knew him to be a patient, generous, and forgiving soul. He had seen much in his nearly two centuries. After the loss of a major limb, many years before our first meeting, he sheltered countless families of squirrel’s and birds and insects, without complaint. Concurrent with this limb’s loss, he accepted a vining growth which leant him his moniker. He rooted and grew, suffered and succored. His was a fine example to follow. Though his stump remains to mark his place, I will miss his presence — the green shade of his crown, the length and all-encompassing reach of his shadow; I will miss the song of wind through his leaves, the creak and groan of his massive branches. Rest well, Treabeard. In lieu of flowers, please plant a tree, or nurture and appreciate those you share your life with, whether daily or in passing.

Treebeard’s stump is an impressive 60+ inches across.

Treebeard’s midsection, measuring over 140 inches in circumference.

The massive cavity that, doubtless, lead to his undoing.

The trunk of Treebeard lays stacked in Greenwood Cemetery’s center.


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