Ivy
—Photo by Joyce Odam
THAT I CAN WRITE OF BIRDS,
sparrows maybe
as tiny savants of distraction
and be so led
from ground
to tree
through air
at disturbance
or some nervousness of
being
watchful
at one with survival
and I
merely watching
enchanted by their quickness
their disinterest in me as foe
as threatening presence
as anything at all other than
shape or movement
so I keep a patient stillness
to give them no reason
to fly from me
(after "Etude" by Ted Kooser)
—Joyce Odam, Sacramento
______________________
THE SOUL AS CAGED BIRD
—Joyce Odam
The soul is a caged bird:
Let’s say this is so.
And you want the bird to sing
and be joyous in the cage.
And you want to own this bird
and praise it—over and over—
for its singing. But
it will not always sing;
sometimes it will claim its
own silence as a separate power.
_____________________
THE DARK BIRDS
(after "Dark Birds, Dark Sea", 1959, Milton Avery)
—Joyce Odam
Midnight birds in a dark blue river,
held by a spreading path of moonlight,
their gold beaks shining
in the shimmer-silence of the hour.
They seem too shadowy
to be real—as if painted
by a midnight child
in love with midnight’s deep blue color.
(first pub. in Brevities, 1999)
_____________________
—Joyce Odam
It was the pale bird in the dream that I remembered.
It flew down a shaft of silence and found my window.
Glass broke in my mind and I shattered.
The pale bird entered my broken dream
and bled and bled its whiteness clear to the horizon.
_____________________
COLD BLUE (an Octo)
—Joyce Odam
Today I look long at the birds:
winter sparrows in a dead tree,
waiting for green—waiting for spring.
Both tree and sparrows etch the sky
of such cold blue—teasing the eye,
waiting for green—waiting for spring.
Winter sparrows in a dead tree:
today I look long at the birds.
____________________
Today's LittleNip:
THE TURNING
—Joyce Odam
Blue bird, sky bird, fiery-winged
against the lowering sun,
causing the horizon to catch fire
and the moon to rise—
blood red—
and near—
soars into the red moon
with a cry that is a prayer.
(first pub. in Brevities, 2011)
_____________________
Thanks to Joyce Odam for today's poems and pix, wrapping up our Seed of the Week: Our Feathered Friends. Our new Seed is Wild Winds and Cheeky Breezes; send your poetic thoughts (poems, art, photos) to kathykieth@hotmail.com
My apologies to Caschwa (Carl Bernard Schwartz) for inadvertently truncating his poem, "Goaltending", yesterday. Herewith is the complete poem:
GOALTENDING
—Caschwa, Sacramento
The ball is heading
Into the basket
Too late to interfere
The fetus is in its
Third trimester
Too late to interfere
The corporation has grown
Too big to fail
Too late to interfere
The church has hired
Molesters to steer our faith
Too late to interfere
At risk youth
Get thrown in jail
Too late to interfere
The experiment in democracy
Doesn’t always work
Too late to interfere
A fortune teller’s product
Is entertainment
Too late to interfere.
The threat of global warming
Might just be valid
Too late to interfere.
Bankruptcy is chosen
Because there are no other choices
Too late to interfere.
Instructions to a sesame seed:
Don’t stop now,
You’re on a roll.
_____________________
—Medusa
—Photo by Joyce Odam