mating robins
click across grass, hopping
so as not to signal full ascent.
those beaded neurons
wet with tradition, slick with practice.
one thing seeks another. summer fire
holds. we dream danger and the air
is so gentle, the sun unbearably
compassionate. i am plush stone fruit.
i am waiting for something to happen.
at the raised hand nature enters
with a toolbox and plies away.
i held a human brain once…so heavy.
hands everywhere you look.
solitary bows. bright orange
bellies. pollen.
insistence. shying.
mud. the arrows
that eat each other.
8 thoughts on "mating robins"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
love “i am plush stone fruit”
❤️ love this!
Terrific density in the language here. Your trademark mood, quietly intense. Your intuitive/associative leaps are landing. You are on your way.
Agree
with Marianne
I think about how twitchy birds always seem to be. This poem with short sentences and frequent pauses mimics that movement very well.
Beautifully written, a dreamy scene!
Good eye. I’ve seen bats mate (once, at a zoo, upside down) but never robins.