Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Dragonfly \ Noon Song

Alan:  Roadkill comes in many sizes and shapes.  There’s always too much of it.  We should acknowledge what we destroy.


The dragonfly
flew low
over the road
and dipped just 
as I hit it
going 40 miles an hour
its perfect hunter’s eye
and its clean arc

I had just time to see
in the rearview mirror
a tiny cross
of body and wings
on the pavement
as I sped
out of its world

At the corner:
the first fireweed
in bloom.

Nancy:  Wren song and robin song, vireo, hermit thrush, and under the moon the owl – and my songs? Catch me if you can, nothing as certain as matins or evensong.

Noon Song

The vireos
sing call and response
making cathedrals
of the green wood
cool stone
rustle of cloisters
call and response
drifting away
quiet of noon

Drowse of noon
now a small bird
sings its own name
here and there
in the roses
sings what it knows
its own name

then again

Noon song
morning song, evening
I close my eyes
that sometimes
like a far off
I will hear my own song

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