Untitled 8/31/2012

The sighing off the sea

the sighing off to sea

this is the breathing in

the breathing out

that lovers land and water

are unafraid to trade

inhaling each 

the other's exhalation.

August 31 2012

The Bird in My Throat

The bird in my throat
startles, caught.
I can feel the convulsion of its wings
in that narrow canal and see
its bright and alien eye
in the darkness of a swallow.
Plainly, it wants to escape.
Suppose its feathered self came bursting forth
and its song was a shriek about beak and talon,
wrathful from confinement?
But equally that springing voice could be
exultation,
announcing a birth in the nest, my heart,
and a broken shell revealing how
the world has wonders fledged
and what they are.

August 17 2012

Many Good Things

Many good things require travel
like parking in a place you have never been

and a long walk towards evening

with a folded blanket rolled beneath your arm.

There is also often waiting.

Preferably children are involved,

whose patience is greater than you had hoped

and who can fill the interim,

as darkness filters down and renders nearby families invisible,

with questions that sound new but distantly familiar.

Finally, when your happiness bursts against the sky

you will see that the odyssey was worth it

because the children are well satisfied

as they walk back tired to the car

with the miracle you wrought on their behalf.

August 7 2012