With sidelong glance
& gesture,
she remarked:
“I
am my own
M u s e.”
— C.Birde, 7/22
With sidelong glance
& gesture,
she remarked:
“I
am my own
M u s e.”
— C.Birde, 7/22
Wreathed
in pale,
lemon-scented Datura,
softly,
she spoke:
“May all your loyalties be
true,
worthy,
&
returned.”
— C.Birde, 7/22
“May your path
be strewn
with beauty – ”
she gestured,
& flowers bloomed.
“May you recognize it
as so.”
— C.Birde, 5/22
“I arrive
in a flurry of petals,”
her voice sailed,
sweetly scented,
“White, pink, yellow…
given to you
on April’s
tossing breeze.”
— C.Birde, 4/22
“Do you not yet know?
How I cherish you?
In every bud
& feather
& tuft of fur?”
Her words lifted
from the earth’s
flowering dream.
“As I long
to be cherished
by you?”
— C.Birde, 3/22
The flowers
confused
blooming
blue
Forget-Me-Nots
in November.
— C.Birde, 11/21
Autumn’s twilight
blooms,
this froth of asters,
bee-filled & spilling –
unbridled –
about the garden’s
unkempt edges
Lace-edged foam
of white,
lilac,
lavender
borne & tended
in courtly fashion
along an ebbing
surf of green…
— C.Birde, 10/21
“Do you hear me?”
Her voice ascended –
russet,
orange,
gold.
“I sing to you through
the trembling throats
of Autumn
wildflowers…”
— C.Birde, 10/21
“Sometimes…”
her voice slipped,
in wink & rustle,
through narrow leaves,
“I sneak up
on unsuspecting blooms,
& catch them
in the act of
photosynthesis…”
— C.Birde, 10/21
A thousand suns
lift their heads
& turn as one
Unseeing
Unblinking
Bee-scented
rays a-tremble
Attuned to
unfathomable
source &
soundless
song.
— C.Birde, 9/21