Spring 2016

Life Walk Bird Talk

News creeping seeping through my glow
telling me what I don’t want to know
but need to to . . . ?

Ugly stuff in need of antidote.

Which is wife, cat, friends, family, life.

And bird walks along Cleveland’s Erie Canal Towpath Trail.

Saw, heard, or was told
chipping sparrow, red-winged blackbird, cormorant,
mocking bird, robin, song sparrow, wood duck,
towhee, flicker, red-bellied woodpecker,
white-throated sparrow,
morning dove,
tree swallow, house sparrow,
new beaver lodge and dam flooding boardwalk,
mallard, cardinal, cowbird, starling, seven swans flying,
crow, kingfisher, rock pigeon sparrow, chickadee,
bluejay, bullfinch, geese, downy woodpecker,
and a ferret river bank running.

My kinda news.

~ Steven B. Smith

Owl Encounter

last night around 10pm I went outside and walked down the driveway toward the garage. In the dark, I noticed one of the maple tree limbs that hangs over the driveway had a new, interesting outcropping I had never seen before, a distinct silhouette against the citylight lit clouds. I know this tree well and all its forms, so well that this new shape stood out as special. As I walked toward it, looking up, I saw the shape begin to move, following my progress beneath it. Then it spoke to me:

“Hoo. Hoo.”

I replied, “Me. Me.”

The owl said “True True”

I struggled to make conversation “I… I”

The owl replied “BUT WHY WHY”

“I don’t know. Know.”

“That’s fine. Fine”

The tiny little owl sat on the tree limb till midnight.

Thank you for the visit. I have a beautiful home. You are welcome here any time.

Time.

~ Cat Listening

Specific Paradise

Who came up with the epiphany
of paradise, a fan flush of feathers
committed in the specific like a woman
with a brown body and brown eyes,
or a woman with red hair and green eyes,
or one with blond and blue

Piano body a woman and mouth a man
the authoritative voice of music with its peal
of percussion on plank octaves

The snake is a repulsing but interesting animal
looping in the branches

Voice’s voice as well a complex instrument
not only to play, but to hear, and the snake again
turning, a mobile of a mobius on the porch,
alleluias in the card shuffle of the ancient
and original wind

~ Lady

Ritual Rising

Coffee in the morning
kitty with the purr
wife with the kiss lips
happiness pure

~ Steven B. Smith

this historical hysterical cage

i dont know if it was wild rhubarb, but the rhubarb
was already there, perhaps planted by anothers
hands. the cherries came out blossoming in late
January–will they blossom once more, this true spring?

i dont walk. i look out the window at birds gathering
like the folds of a map on the eave of my porch
where i plant little seeds which wont hold them long,
i know.

it was not until you pointed it out in your vague
tongue that i knew i possessed a seed-berry
of my own, which gives off shoots. i am eager to
put it to use–but this weather! and i am no tree.

there is nothing like the peck of finch beaks
on 160 year old wood to make you get up and
wash dishes.

redbud seed pods hang on yet, and
mummy tulips the poplar, from what i can
see from my bed. just when will they cease
finally to be the peaks of my captivity?

i did eventually figure out why the water tower at times
is white, other times aquamarine. it has to do with
how bright the sun and when it is i look out, wonderin’.

– Bree

Status Report 13

Cat on chest.
Purr in ear.
Fur feel face.

~ Steven B. Smith

D A W N S B I R T H D A Y C A K E

the sun is a white moon. several vultures triangle
the original blue sky where i look up walking
along the snow in a street.
a Volvo sedan doesnt even give me SYMBOLIC berthing!
& for the first time, i think,

‘city person,’

my lips pursed, eyebrows in disgust.
the fronts of four cows share the trough before cornfields
of snow. the square root of cake x pie =this white crowned
sparrow, feeding on the ground outside.
one calf is running alone with joy, the last
farm before the yard of orange birds
flicker like candles. skinny crick leads the eye to the
half-burned school, the soughs semi-permanent
waves of frost cut into like
Dawn’s birthday cake.

~ Bree

spring equinox 2016

the spring comes pressing
its wet nose into the knot
of winter longing

~ wendy shaffer