Sly wink and glide,
she eludes
his fiery grasp,
and scatters
her Cheshire grin
in countless
bright crescents
to mark her passage.
No portents here.
Rather,
a coy,
lunar sway
as,
smoothly,
she slips before
his wide,
unblinking
eye.
— C.Birde, 8/17
Hello! I will be taking a short break from my blog and will return in about two weeks. I will continue matching words to images during my absence, and I invite you to look for me at Carrie Birde on Instagram if you should wish. Keep dreaming, and keep creating 🙂
— C.Birde
Seconds,
Minutes,
Hours –
The slow and certain accumulation
of six-months’ time
tilts the scales
in daylight’s favor.
Solstice of Summer.
Exultant and unaware,
we blissfully tread
the insubstantial
garment of our shadows,
as the Hours
Minutes,
Seconds
steadily
reverse
their
course.
— C.Birde, 6/17
At ease with winged shadow and
Winter’s long,
slow,
indrawn breath —
Crow bows in Greenwood Cemetery.
— C.Birde, 1/17
Spill of
clouded light
emblazoned across
the sweep
of south-facing
sky.
— C.Birde, 11/16
My invitation arrived
in the wood
at dawn.
— C.Birde, 9/16
Last evening’s sunset,
caught in sky and water.
Breathe,
and release.
— C.Birde, 8/16
Humble path,
strewn with disks of light
that shift illumination
underfoot,
while overhead
a wind tangles in
trees’ limbs outstretched
with leaves gilt-edged in sun.
No hearts of stone here.
No clenched fists.
Human constructs,
stripped away —
those cramped and
too-small boxes,
all those restrictive,
reductive
labels.
Here,
there is just
wind and song;
life,
and green-gold
light.
— C.Birde, 6/16
Morning light, distilled through frosted glass, and ready for sipping.