“Bee Tongue” — C.Birde, 9/24
Humm of a hundred
bees…
My garden is a mess…
Contentment lives
here.
— C.Birde, 10/24
“Bee Tongue” — C.Birde, 9/24
Humm of a hundred
bees…
My garden is a mess…
Contentment lives
here.
— C.Birde, 10/24
Dressed
in green-moss velvet
I’ll drink soft rain,
limbs lifted toward
its falling.
— C.Birde, 8/24
Cracked open.
— C.Birde, 6/20
Deep,
dark wood,
moon-bleached
and rinsed of light
of color.
Earth lifts —
root-twined,
rocky —
in slow and steady
upward arch
beneath a burden
of pines.
Gaunt figure.
Slack of limb
and wasted frame,
flame of hair and
spirit snuffed.
He shuffles unaware
in shabby slippers
and threadbare robe
between attentive,
watchful trees.
Alone.
Alone and ghostly.
Diminished.
Lost among
the elements,
whose beauty
would be magnified
did he not
haunt them
so.
— C.Birde, 6/20
Limbs stretched,
pinned to luminous
late-Autumn sky,
He offers no complaint.
— C.Birde, 12/16
Merriam Oak has let go a sheaf of bronze-bright leaves, each as large as my booted foot, or larger. To walk beneath these bare and spreading boughs is to kick through a three-season journal, each leaf an entry, while the author prepares for rest and reflection during the spare Winter days to come.
I think I am in withdrawal — no more two-, three-, four-plus-hour hikes through landscape that transforms and surprises with shift of wind and sunlight’s exposure. No more sandwiches and chocolate atop weathered, bald-capped mountains; nor the chitter and scold of red squirrels, otherwise silent as breath. The Canine Electron, I am certain, misses the adventure, as well.
But today — this moment, right here, right now — is lovely. A great depth of Autumn sky sprawls above our small, familiar patch of Earth. Together, we have put some miles beneath our eager feet.
Boulders for stepping stones pressed
against the Tarn’s edge;
Smooth waters dimpled and pocked
with browned lily pads and
rusted grasses rippled
by insistent breeze;
Break upon woodland
of lump-barked ashes,
rough maples and fine-needled pines
lit by fleet, dappled light;
Rock- and root-strewn path
of hard-packed earth
carpeted with fallen leaves
undulating, wave-like;
The air, wildflower scented —
asters, goldenrods, and hawkweed;
Leopard frog amidst the leaf mould;
All sounds of humanity,
except our own,
fallen away.
–C.Birde