Decision on a Birdfeeder

image courtesy of publicdomainpictures.net

 

I hesitate in remembrance

as if the fates would choose

a day of gray and leave me there,

as if a blossoming could be had upon

a second visitation to any day.

 

The creamer clouds disperse and swirl

in my extra strong coffee

like memories of things I wanted–

never had, never attained

all those years ago.

 

Stirring the coffee still,

I stare out the kitchen window.

Decide against a bird feeder

filled with black oil sunflower seeds.

I do not want cardinals here.

People say cardinals are spirits

of those you’ve lost come to visit you—

No.  I want no cardinals here.

No spirits of the lost to visit or say hello.

No twittering or chittering away.

No vibrancy of color outside this window.

No.  Not here.  Not in this place.

 

I’d rather this be a spiritless place,

A virgin place, void of spirits, void of touch—

 

At least for a time

 

 

 

Emerge

Image is my own

 

Days lengthen,

The sun returns

In an earnestness

We have not seen in months.

Not yet does the earth send warmth

Enough to climb through the soles of our feet–

Not yet warmth enough to creep onward up our legs,

Stretching, reaching toward our souls,

Where I carry the wish I have of you

One day, perhaps—

Perhaps, I may find the courage to grasp

In an aching, aging hand the bone to break

And set loose the wish I have of you.