Monday, September 27, 2010

Megan Bird

She sang at the nursery window
and sent thought to me of Beth.
Call her, She needs you please, it read.
When he sleeps, I said.
She pushed and pecked at cracks
and I feared the pane might let.
Is that you?
i asked
(for we had never met)

Her perfect perch said yes.
Then Little Baby slept.

so I crept to a room
where whispery taps resumed,
and the gentle shadows of a hopping bird
were present too.

Is that you?
i begged.
Her feathery breath said yes.
So I reached out to Beth.

For when she left her bed,
she Left
to fetch
and the rest.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

"People tell you who they are, but we ignore it because we want them to be who WE want them to be."

Another blogger posted this quote and it stuck in my head. Although, I'm not sure we "ignore" it. I think perhaps we accept, then forget. Or we see evidence to the contrary, and so we hope.

In the beginning, though, we accept.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

It's a different kind of draft
two thousand seven hundred forty
are chosen
to fight
and die,
an enemy.
But soldiers they are still.

Saturday, September 4, 2010


'Member what those Big Hands felt like under your armpits as they slowly lowered you until there was a lapping Cold over toes and it got inside somehow and shivered high into your bare shoulders that pulled up as the breeze wisked by.

'Member when your jello legs ran over sinky suction sand towards those Big Blue Waves and all of a sudden They were pulling at your feet and down! you went on your bottom but the Hand had not let go, only changed a sandy grip around your wrist and there was an "Up we Go!" and a change of clothes.

'Member when you were allowed to go up to your waist, and when tired of jumping waves you dug your fingers into the water's edge to catch Fiddlers as they dug against the tide, digging for their lives, and they scrambled in your hand searching for sand until you dropped them and ran to your big colorful towel and peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Remember when stepping out of your shorts and pulling off your shirt was a big moment, how you ran into the water, not ready yet, so that no one had time to comment on how grown up you now were, how you now walked the beach and wished that a boy would and wouldn't appear, and how the music in your ears made you feel like the star of a very beautiful movie that everyone was watching.

Somehow with his every first I remember my own and all that followed, all at once.