Two poems published in Dark Mountain Journal 9.
BLACKBIRD
Song well known for its melodic, mellow tone,
a clear and loud fluting (almost in the major key)
Collins Bird Guide
Night slides in
behind the wet glass door
when its song begins pouring
through our thin routine
And yes we were just asking
the warmth in the rock
first bright day
air like silk in our mouths
Now the answer rings
with the sudden flare
of an unseen yellow eye
it’s coming it’s coming it’s coming
Glass blacks back
our running faces
gathering in the day
It’s coming
THE HEART
a mile from the house
we stopped walking
lay down in the damp evening grass
we’d thought the open field
would let us breathe
we were wrong about that
even out here
over the mud-flat sweep
and curlewed folds of the creek
all we could taste was iron
the smell still clinging
to the back of our mouths
since it drew us out
from separate rooms
down to a closed front door
to what waited there
leaking on the horsehair mat
hastily wrapped
but unmistakable
already blackening
in the stale air
then all at once
we moved
climbed heavily to our feet
and walked
until the house
its quiet rooms
fell far behind
and we reached this sloping field
to drop into the grass
opening our mouths
in vain