Before the purpling of the sky,
a Great-tailed Grackle
bemoaned the heat
with open mouth.
He was gone
before the dust storm blew
across the lawn
turning it, and us, ashen.
There were no bells,
no ceremony.
Only this: dead
voices
rising
like motors running
from somewhere in the deep
stirring memories
of my bare feet
in the sand,
my hands lifting
shells from the shore
for a backward listen.
How different it all was back then.
But it wasn’t, was it?
Life has always been
roiling about us
in the mix of the fair
and the foul.
Did we just let
all that darkness take over,
choking everything
in toxic grip?
Did we just ignore it,
hoping the tide would go
just as it came?
Even so,
what I know now
I will not remain
perched to repeat,
she-grackle,
small and brown,
mouth open in the heat,
shaking sand
from my unfolding wings.
Since birds have no sweat glands, we often see Great-tailed Grackles walking about with their mouths open to cool down in the AZ summer heat.
That is interesting about the grackle. I didnt know that. I love this poem, Jennifer, especially its closing lines. And the question: was it always like this? Maybe so, though it feels more concentrated these days. Hard to unfurl our wings in the heaviness of it all. But I admire the courage in trying. Smiles.
ReplyDeleteI had never considered how birds might cool themselves except flying, I suppose. Land o' Goshen, I learned something today. :-) Your poem ebbs and flows like a weather pattern, or a societal sickness, or ultimately a defiant sense of stubborn optimism. That's the part I like best.
ReplyDeleteI love the depth of description and emotion you have expressed here. Both delicate and strong - Jae
ReplyDeleteYour poem holds so much power and truth. Perhaps we will awaken and breathe new life into a world that is determined to repeat the darkest of history. Great writing!
ReplyDeleteLove the images in this and the way you draw me into it. Great writing
ReplyDeleteHeavy with meaning, adept with imagery, rich in texture, all that I've come to expect from your beautiful poetry, Jen. I especially loved "lifting
ReplyDeleteshells from the shore
for a backward listen" --- What a stunningly brilliant description.
This captivated me from the beginning. Power and truth.
ReplyDeleteThose last two stanzas are truly beautiful.
ReplyDelete