Face off

All winter
the blue heron
slept among the horses.
I do not know
the custom of herons,
do not know
if the solitary habit
is their way.
or if he listened for
some missing one--
not knowing even
that was what he did--
in the blowing
sounds in the dark.
I know that hope is the hardest
love we carry.
He slept
with his long neck
folded, like a letter
put away.

Jane Hirschfield Hope and Love

A little flower for a little day

You are wrong to think I do not miss you.

Still, citizen sparrow, this vulture which you call
Unnatural, let him lumber again to air
Over the rotten office, let him bear
The carrion ballast up, and at the tall

Tip of the sky lie cruising. Then you'll see
That no more beautiful bird is in heaven's height
No wider more placid wings, no watchfuller flight;
He shoulders nature there, the frightfully free,

-From Still, Citizen Sparrow by Richard Wilbur

Corby

Watching a couple of crows
playing around in the woods, swooping
in low after each other, I wonder
if they ever slam into the trees.

...but rarely does a crow
hit a tree, though other, clumsier birds
bang into them all the time, and we say
these birds have not adapted well

to the forest environment.
Frequently stunned, they become
easy prey for the wily fox,
who's learned how to listen

for that snapping of branches
and collapsing of wings,
who knows where to go
and what to do when he gets there.

From The Questions Poems Ask by Lawrence Raab

Vulture time

The person with no integrity, who maliciously undermined me and did whatever possible to make me look bad-got the job. The job that I worked very hard for, gave all my heart to in order to do the best job possible for my students. I want to scream and call her bad names, I want to call her and tell her off. I want to tell them all how insane it is that this person, who wouldn't show up, did no work and said some of the nastiest things to me now happily walks the halls where I should be. I am angry about it but have to be nice and therefore have no real venue in which to vent my complete and utter frustration. Now I have no real chances of getting that dream job I wanted, other than clawing my way up the ladder. Guess what? F-that, I am done and give up. I will stay where I am and enjoy what I have instead of trying to turn into a person like that. They can keep her and her ugliness, good luck with that. Not to mention now they are all avoiding me. I am sure she spread lies about me and they believed her. F-ing idiots, you trusted her? Really? After all this time? Are you kidding me? Seriously that makes me really rather sad and discouraged. Heartbreaking it was a dream I had.

Horned Grebes in the mall pond

spring

Yes I miss him, sure I do. I would not have felt so much to be able to turn it off and walk so easily away. It was all wrapped up in my work and growth, so much more. How could you think I would be the callous one and just walk away. Of course I had to protect myself and really there is an innocence to it, you are my friend. I am surrounded by hours of work but none of it is reaching me today, none of it. It does not tell that story, the one you so abruptly ended with non-response after all those years. I was good and so were you. I am insulted that you exited so quickly and never responded. What did I do to deserve that cruelty? I am not dead, I am building a life over here, why should I not have what you have? A woman painter, everyone thinks that will end when you try to build a life, but painting is that life. Mostly men say that,but I am sick of it really. Sick of having that fear, no it is not over or ending. It continues and grows, changes away from you. He looked at me with such distain this a-hole of a guy I work with, like now he cannot posess because I am full and fertile and wonderful. I am happier without the longing because it is more sensible and I am tired of it. Yet I do miss him terribly and would love to spend the time catching up, laughing with him again and being there to admire him as I do. I rather enjoyed making him happy as he deserves and loving him as if he were a part of my own family. I miss that, sometimes rather terribly.

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purseto buy me,
and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox
when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
And therefore I look upon everythingas a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.
When it's over, I want to say all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it's over, I don't want to wonderi
f I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.

Mary Oliver -When Death Comes
-Goodbye my sweet dear Great Aunt

Face time

The world is changing and I am comfortable with it. Health comes and goes which is frustrating and does not allow me to do as much as I usually do, but I know it will end soon and I will be back to normal. I am looking forward to the new time, it is good there. I remember that time when I was so free with longing and when everything was ahead of me. Now it is a new life and I think I chose the right direction. My heart will always be open to him, that I cannot help but it is tempered with more wisdom. I am glad of the experience of it, the thrill and wonder. The world awaits and I slide my hand into his, loyal, caring always there when I need him and step forward gloriously.

Flanked

I have nothing for you
Don't we all expect someone there
in the silence?
get back to me,
call me later
see you then.
I don't wait in shadows
my path is clear
I wade
walk
run
fly
to the light
call me if you get there.

-Corby

My love, birds are just birds
they are not carrying a message of meaning
The days come and I lift my head
starting again and again.
All my heroes have left
in the endless drone of February
I want to drive by
keep going to see where I will end up,
but I make the turn
and leave the possibility out there.
Those dreams seem like someone else's now
as I feel the weight of it pressing
down into my bones.
I cannot fly
I cannot fly
birds are just birds, my love.

-Corbyhawk