Shy…? — An Image

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“Shy…?” — C.Birde, 4/19

 

Shy?

I think not.

Determined,

rather,

to scatter light

in corners

overlooked,

eclipsed,

&

quiet.

— C.Birde, 4/19

 

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“Violets” — C.Birde, 4/19

 

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Overwhelmed — A Dream

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“Blue Pick Up” — C.Birde, 4/19

 

Brand new.

Gleaming metallic

cobalt blue.

Huge.

Need a step-ladder

to climb into

the cab,

then swallowed up

inside.

Steering wheel,

too big to wrap fingers

around.

The dashboard

overwhelms –

glowing instrument

cluster;

winking lights;

scrolling message

screen.

Buttons and

      knobs and

      toggle switches.

Toobigtoobigtoobig.

Can’t.

Nope.

“Sure you can.”

Easy for him

to say.

He’s huge.

Six feet?

Seven?

Overalls and

cap.

Name stitched

in red over

his heart.

What

does he know

about who

can do

what?

“First thing you do,”

he says,

“is check

your mirrors.”

Don’t know how

“I’ll walk ‘round.

Tell me when you

see me.”

Flash

of white sleeve

spied

in the driver’s side

mirror.

Top of cap’s

blue-cloth button appears

in rearview.

Ginger beard

sighted

in passenger’s.

Back again from

circumnavigation,

he leans elbows on

the door’s edge.

“Geez…. “ he says,

shakes his head.

“Your mirrors

are way

off.”

Great.

“Here.

I’ll show you how

to adjust

them.”

Thank

you?

 

— C.Birde, 4/19

Flame & Thunderheads — A Dream

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“Sequins” — C.Birde, 4/19

 

 

“You’ll evoke Andromeda.”

She stands

on the threshold –

neither in nor

out –

and speaks

with warning,

disapproval,

disdain.

She,

with the tossing sea

at her back

and in her eyes.

She,

clad in the blue

of a glacier’s heart.

Her opinion

should not

matter;

yet her words –

her judgment –

wriggle and wrest

their way

inside.

I look

at the dress –

tiers of fringe and

beads and

sequins winking

with promise;

the color of a sunset

blushing;

set alongside

shoes and scarf

of pewter;

arranged

on the white bedspread

like thunderheads

and flame.

And I think –

with a silent, secret

ache –

that evoking

Andromeda

might be

just the

thing.

 

— C.Birde, 4/19

 

Vantage — A Poem

 

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“Wire” — C.Birde, 3/19

 

Perched

on the wire –

like any dove

or sparrow;

hooked talons

grip,

the line

dips

taut beneath

three pounds

of hollow bones

and feathers.

Alert.

Blunt head hunched

between

folded wing blades.

Yellow gaze

fixates

upon the open field

of fallow meadow

grasses.

Red-tail scans

for any dove

or sparrow’s

passage.

 

— C.Birde, 3/19

 

 

 

Look — A Poem

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“Shadow” — C.Birde, 3/19

 

Look

look away

cringe

fade…

To either side,

a tug,

a pull of

equal force.

Duality of need

desire

balanced

in opposition

to the self.

Uncertainty –

a slow poison

consumed

in sips;

a crumb

nibbled,

bitter

on the tongue.

Shadows,

all –

insubstantial;

substance-

less.

Trust —

within

lies the way.

Shimmer.

Blaze.

 

— C.Birde, 3/19