by Emily Black
I feel dizzy from looking at leafy shadows
falling on an open
notebook where I sit
in my garden. Spring has truly come at last
after a hard winter of isolation.
Birds seem happier than usual or maybe
I am hearing them with new ears. I watch
robins bounce around like happy children,
jays squawk and fuss, and cardinals reign
supreme in regal scarlet feathers.
A crow caws in the distance, then approaches
near. He struts and looks at me from a sideways
I’m here, he caws, then louder, I’m here!
I’m here, he
insists. His loud, croaking voice
demands my attention; it stirs an ancient
awareness in me and in my trance-like memory
I dance to a gypsy tune around a pagan fire.
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