Hypnotic whorl of Coneflower —
Floral expression
of Fibonacci’s Sequence.
— C.Birde, 6/16
Coneflower — An Image
The Lavender, Unadorned — A Poem
Once,
not long ago,
the lavender hedge hummed
and trembled,
the foxgloves’ narrow,
yellow throats were lodged
with bees.
Silence, now.
Unadorned absence.
Where is the bee’s champion?
Their Rachel Carson?
When will we exchange
our short-sighted mantra
of “not-our-fault”
for “how-can-we-help”?
And,
in so doing —
in helping these small,
industrious creatures —
help
ourselves?
— C.Birde, 6/16
Foxgloves — An Image
Foxgloves —
returned to their stems
and left to dry
by the garden gate.
— C.Birde, 6/16
Honeysuckle — Images
This honeysuckled air…
sweet enough to sip,
to draw that ethereal fragrance
— like a warmth —
over the tongue.
— C.Birde, 6/16
After the Dance — Images
The Moon wanes,
and the sprites have hung their dancing slippers
from the arch of Solomon’s Seal,
their moon-washed gowns and jackets
from the Bleeding Heart.
— C.Birde, 5/16
Bleeding Hearts — An Image
Bleeding hearts in the garden —
pin one to my sleeve.
— C.Birde, 5/16
Trillium — An Image
There, in the corner garden —
step beyond the fringe of ferns and
part the bleeding hearts —
stands Trillium,
her frock translucent
with rain.
— C.Birde, 5/16