Bird Watching

It rained all night. Today

I dry-muse, inside, on tall roses

prolifically budded pink, yellow, red,


rising behind landscape layers

of glossy green. A blackbird thrashes

to the surface of the window-side shrub.


Ungraceful she is, faded black

with an eye duller than poets suspect:

nesting. Good mother, she must not blink,


must keep her head eternally cocked,

wary gaze on the shadowy unknown.

I wait, unmoving, not wanting to intrude.


(Ear eternally cocked, not even wanting

to listen, I hear the distant metal screech

of the city-bound train. Good-bye


for real, she said, stooping to kiss

her faded mother. She’s dressed for a party,

brilliantly plumed.)


I think this is an answer, of sorts, to the beautiful Prom night by Jenifer Cartland (Poems from in between).

7 thoughts on “Bird Watching”

  1. Wonderful storytelling poem, I like the two last stanzas, in brackets. Thank your for sharing your graceful poetry Jennifer.


    1. I didn’t set out to be so melancholy, but I was feeling melancholy, a little. Thanks for the positive feedback!


  2. Thanks for the shout-out, Jennifer. So fascinating that you are able to communicate both sides of the coin in a single poem — I could not get my head there! Lovely.


    1. Your poem was on my mind, then I was trying to write something, anything, and it became about motherhood. Surprise, surprise.


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