Origami Microchap

A Few Bird Songs

Click title to download microchap

 Cover Photo of Grackle 

•

Grackles

They call the Grackle a bandit bird,
a black shape swooping down
stealing even the food
from our plates
on a summer picnic.

moon-eye, golden
full, defiant.

On the back fence,
in Promethean fashion,
you steal from the sun,
and from behind our windows,
we might see that light
now bursting from your darkness
into blue-green flame.

Blackbird

At the feet
of a chipped
garden statue,
the blackbird searches
through fragments like bone,
its epaulets red in the sun
like a saint’s robes
in stained glass

Blue Jays

In my grandfather’s yard,
the blue jays cannonball,
their large bodies splashing
water out of his birdbaths:
not those made of stone
in the shape of gods
but rusty pans
he finds in the dump
and places on boards
in the green shade
of bowing mimosa trees.

The Piper

In that old story,
a piper came to town,
maybe from the hills,
with a cape as green as a summer field
and long hair of sunflower yellow.
He led the rats away.

Later, there were the children.

What song could have made
them come out that night,
dance beneath the moon,
and then disappear like stars
in early morning light?

I heard it then--
pure and clear through the window--
the wood thrush’s song,
filling the darkening sky.

Heron

In a pond,
the heron stands
still and white,
immoveable, unreal
a Colossus maybe
to frogs and turtles
and their world.

At the edge,
we take off our shoes and enter,
our feet sinking into the mud.
Your gaze, unflinching,
your solitude, beckoning,
touching us like waves
of wind and water.

Barn Owl

i
Eerie, unearthly your call is described,
maybe thought to be that of the banshee long ago,
death notes echoing from dark woods.

ii
Elusive, not easily seen you are,
a face appearing occasionally, ghostly white,
timid apparition or small bobbing moon.

iii
Senses supreme, you glide over dim fields
and then return to shuttered houses and graveyard trees,
strange ruler of our quiet spaces.

•

Andre DeCuir © 2022