Folded Wings

June 17, 2011 § Leave a comment

The red-winged blackbird didn’t move

from his perch on the wooden post,


even though I walked steadily and

my dog ran away and back for tennis balls.


Down over the hill, across the water

and the marshes, others of his kind

balanced on the tops of reeds.


“Aren’t you afraid, fellow?”

I finally had to ask him, when I stood only a foot

away, admiring the creases of his feathers.


He unfolded and resettled himself,

the red shoulders flashing.


Then he spread his wings wide,

but the pause had been long enough

for me to know what he meant.


I live here.


I watched him fly down to the marshes,

where the light faded into blue and shade.


Then we walked on, dog and person,

tossing the tennis ball like two children

in the neighbors’ big backyard.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

What’s this?

You are currently reading Folded Wings at Kinds of Honey.


%d bloggers like this: