Moanbaun Wood
I found my spectacles on the path
retraced my steps
thankful.
I wanted to see the recording.
the man in the green coat and black hair
came here by night
crisp clear sight
a lantern on his forehead
he said some dogs were trained here
maybe search and rescue.
how many shades of green are here?
this is a place to stumble into lines
into phrases
even stanzas.
rocks and puddles
jays, blue jays.
on this trail I met a chaffinch.
she sang
to me
of light.
she flew with an open air
across the trail
above the trees
above the pines
she spoke to me of days to come
and I walked on
with a lighter step.
on the bench
sat a magpie
she did not fly
away
she looked me with her sharpened eye
she called to me of days gone by
immobile days
one for sorrow…
she did not sing to me
she wrote a note of silence
in that resting place.
I walked away
she stayed with me
she never left my shoulder
her grip
firm
solid
muscular.
she was no tenor.
that magpie had a nest nearby
I could see why she picked me.
where has my chaffinch gone?
she’s not so strong.
when will she rise again?
when will she lay her eggs?
around the corner
downhill
there are songbirds.
drops
raindrops
hang
from twigs.
ah that song
again.
this is the way.
