Singularities — An Image



“Self-Portrait, in Cast Shadow and Reflected Light” — C.Birde, 1/18


No two snowflakes

are alike,

nor sunsets,

nor heartbreaks —


We insist on

confining each other

to small and




— C.Birde, 1/18



Apart — A Poem


“Apart” — C.Birde, 1/18


To those

of timid nature —



apart —

who inch along the perimeter

between here and there,

just beyond the warmth

of belonging…


I hear you.

I see you.

Our hearts beat

the same

a n x i o u s



— C.Birde, 1/18



Suspense — A Dream

"Suspense" -- C.Birde, 1:18.png

“Suspense” — C.Birde, 1/18


Hair – unruffled. Not a strand out of place.

Jeans, long-sleeved t-shirt – unbuffeted. Yet, a rush of air courses over the exposed flesh of my face, my hands, my feet like a strong current of water.

There is nothing – not a floorboard, nor weave of threadbare carpet; no slim scrap of terra firma – beneath me.

I hang in the air, motionless; arms snugged beneath my ribs…

…and the stairwell rushes past; floors and hairpin-turns of banisters whip past in a blur.

I am surrounded by heady, accelerated motion.

Do I fall?

Or does the structure rise skyward in reckless urgency?

Suspended, I blink.

The stairwell streaks by.


— C.Birde, 1/18




Beads — A Dream


“Beads” — C.Birde, 12/18


The bracelet lies across my upturned wrist, arrayed over thin flesh and delicate tendons. Small spheres of milky jade green strung along a red-silk cord. Each bead is separated by a smaller gold bead and an even smaller scarlet knot. But the delicate, fibrous cord has broken; the fine threads — tassled and frayed — unravel slowly. Only the small, tight knots keep the beads from spilling, scattering, spinning to the room’s limits. Small satellites and stars destined for loss with deep shadow. The scarlet cord, a lash across my wrist; a slim weal. Each diminutive knot, a bead of blood.