Today's poem is by Paula Bohince
Oriole
Consider three orioles
black and orange in virgin snow,
definite against vaporas a single oriole
with a triune nature:one on the fence, divider
of gifts, another who is pure
ornament, posed stoically
on the fir,and a third who is wise,
the oracle
playing against his fate
dashing from feeder to feeder,
pummeling the seed bell.I love these firebirds
for their toughness, for resisting
my usual lens of pity,who frighten me
as the football players used to
years ago, in churchtheir bruised bodies
suited onto an opposite field,
who stood among us,
alarmingly still.
Copyright © 2008 Paula Bohince All rights reserved
from Incident at the Edge of Bayonet Woods
Sarabande Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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