the unfamiliar is always turning up
in place of old favorite fragiles that go missing.
Here's a prezzie, baby,
out of the blue,
because he's sorry he sold that thing he did
that you loved
in the old place, or ten places ago.
Grackles love the morning same as sparrows
and like your love, they woke up being what they are.
You know winter will come,
the road will ice over,
and nothing will be the way it was, again.
Be his sparrow, then,
and know that God and the cops have their eye on you both.
Honey, you don't have to tell them a thing
and your fingertips, your breath, your tired determined hope
are out of their jurisdiction and beyond their experience,
like flight,
like lightness,
like the way he makes you feel.
__________
for the Sunday Muse #64.
The poem's sense of flight--all the birds and the light theft of movement--creates an entire story streaming away from that couch. Glad to get caught (temporarily) in the draft. :)
ReplyDeleteShay--JFC! I fell in love with the third stanza (especially) after being wowed by the first 2, and then the last one totally blew me away.
ReplyDeleteYou may not be as enamored about blogging--like you once were--but you can still crank out crazy-gorgeous poems.
No one writes like you do. Those opening lines - O!M!G! You spin a fine tale. Too many wonderful lines to quote. I love all the birds! And how they woke up being what they were. As do we all.
ReplyDeleteI’m stunned.
ReplyDeleteYour poetic connection to birds and all the many metaphors for soul and heart they suggest, has never seemed stronger than here--the fragile, the changeable, the perishing and all the heartache and terror they represent, and somewhere in there, the clear, wordless yearning for what remains after the last autumn wind has stripped the skies. Beautiful, deep and delicious writing, Shay. That first line is astonishing all by itself.
ReplyDeleteTotally agree with Hedge. Astonishing poem. The last stanza is outstanding. Honey you don't have to tell them a thing....wow
ReplyDeleteAs always you amaze me with your deep and wonderful talent Shay! You had me at the first line, but the following lines and yearning that flies through each line is both strong and gentle all rolled into one. I love this!!!!!
ReplyDeleteOn the run, and holding your tongue... No body writes like you do. This is your awesome greatness as always.
ReplyDeleteSeriously, Shay, I can see them, hear them, feel her heartbeat, her hope, her love, her worry... all in this amazing poem you have created! It's a novel, a movie all rolled up in this poem! I really can't express to you how much I like this!
ReplyDeleteHad to share it on FB (I have two FB's - not sure which one you are friends with - but I posted it on my poetry FB page.
ReplyDeleteThanks for letting me know. I'll find it.
ReplyDeleteI'd never even heard of a grackle before. I especially like the comparision of life on the road with a kleptomaniac lover.
ReplyDelete.....and I resonate with that tired, determined hope.
ReplyDeleteHad me from that first amazing paragraph, Shay!
ReplyDelete