Archive | June 2016

Yellow Leaf: in memory of those massacred in Orlando

001

 

Yellow leaf in late June,

set apart from

all the rest, but taken in,

surrounded by the common

greens; folded into family

of tree; a oneness,

an embrace, a clapping

of their rainbow hands

as summer winds meander

random through the branches;

as raindrops gentle tap

each leaf—the green, the yellow,

the whatever shape or color

it might be.

churr-churr

001 - Copy (3)

churr-churr!  he calls to me as I pick up

my morning paper; again he sings to me

in the afternoon as I begin my daily walk;

a twitter of friendship, kinship in this greening

world of spring;

*

or maybe not—perhaps a simple warning

to keep my distance from the nest he and his lady  

friend have crafted for their soon-to-be

red-bellied young;

 

*

or perhaps he doesn’t notice me at all,

just churr-churrs his two-word poem

for the simple joy of being alive, the brilliance

of his red head shining his delight,

inviting me to sing, churr-churr

with him the sparkling of a world drowned

in a sea of colors spinning out the springtime

hope we share;

*

hope for tiny feathered souls;

hope for secret nestlings brooding midst the darker

secrets of our hearts; hope for children tented

in crowded camps, tweeting needs and fears against

the noise that shrouds the colors of their world,

colors that yet push out through cracks

in concrete walls, push up through all the carnage

of our wars, colors churr-churring hope that springs

insistent, firm, across our sordid, wearied world.