it was no trouble to catch the tiny bird he was a baby, after all and fluttered helplessly in an ocean of grass beneath our backyard elm I cradled him in my palm feeling the incredible softness of his 'almost' feathers telling him he was going to be fine and knowing otherwise putting him in a shoebox with holes in the lid and a soft piece of rag I tried to feed him bits of damp bread but his clownish yellow beak was tight with refusal anxious birds fretted outside and I though about just putting him back where they could see he was ok but he wasn't and they couldn't change that as I tried to feed him once again his head tilted to reveal a liquid brown eye which focused on my face briefly as if to say the caring is what matters, really and then it closed and he was gone carrying him back out into the sunshine covering him with warm brown soil in my garden I mourned for something I can't explain and was glad he had not gone unnoticed
Days of Ashes
Watching the dragon of fire
devour the mountains,
my hair begins to gray
with the ashes of someone else’s life.
Day after day
I wake afraid--
drawn to the street
with the other strangers
of my neighborhood.
The community of fear
takes the place of unknown names
and greetings never uttered.
We all look for a sign
that the beast is turning away;
wondering if it will feed enough
on the hillside homes between us
to be satiated and sleep.
If we feel shame at these thoughts
we do not share it.
The ashes which cover us
as we keep our vigil
smell of cedar and pine,
and I can’t help thinking about
childhood campfires
and the burned sugar taste
of blackened marshmallows.
Someone wonders aloud
if the animals feel much pain
when they burn to death like that,
and I retreat to the house,
where I turn off the news,
pack my memories and cry.
Skinny dog
it’s not fair that my dog can eat
anything and everything all day long
and still remain at an attractive puppy weight
what is his secret?
We are both anxious, needing to please
maybe I need a tapeworm
maybe he needs more access to ice cream
could it just be that he
spends more energy than I in pure delight
every waking moment
immersed in interesting smells
tearing through piles of golden leaves
wearing a path along the fence
greeting interesting children and
defending against menacing strangers
watching bees for hours and braving their sting
for a brief taste of sweetness
constantly eager to go for a ride
head in the wind with flapping ears and blowfish lips
new sights, new smells and an occasional gratifying sneeze
maybe I could roll this excess off my body like he does
sliding along the fragrant grass in the sunshine
stretching and collapsing into that comical
on-your-back-paws-in-the-air
moment of pure satisfaction
all of life is condensed into now and now is good
rebuke lasts a moment, only long enough to snatch up a ragged toy
and deliver it with I’m-so-sorry ears and eyes
there’s nothing that can’t be made better with a wagging tail
and it's back to joy again
content to be with me even if I forget his presence
dogs don’t hold anything in
learning to be as open as my dog is difficult
dogs don’t stuff their feelings down with food
they just eat when the opportunity presents itself
