startled by the gathering flight
of all those black birds chatting in the trees
memories stirred of falls gone by
and the breezy dusty rustlings overhead
I looked up and remembered
some things I have collected:
a six year old girl paused in that same spot
noticing all those birds and a little afraid
of their multitude and drop dead cries
seeking comfort in lockets of my hair
and the smell of the red reindeer cap I’m wearing ~
my red-haired niece with miniature hands
inspecting something for a first time
a crumbling leaf’s texture or maybe some small stone
turning it over again and again
in curiosity with a hint of recognition ~
that first curious kiss in the space no more between
but closed now….and yet so wide open
with wanting pouring in first tasting my I love you’s tongue
and the beginning of something hard, but worth it…
the quickening butterfly that was savannah
as I lay in bed one chilly morning
praying it wasn’t yet another dream
memorizing every small delightful thing
in that glorious autumn’s day including ~
swarming grackles laughing at me…
