In Praise of What Does Not Belong to Us
       

Let's not mourn
quick glimpses
of crest, of wing,
not waste one moment

cursing slow
reflexes, dim
eyes, fumbled
focus.

Listen.

Mystery fruits
split last night
draw beetles,
tanagers, motmots,

draw wrens to feast
on semillas, seeds.
Everywhere birds go
drop chances

for new caimitos.
Aves call, deep
in leaves
all around us.

We seldom see
more than swoop,
flash,
gone.

Listen . . .

Breathe deep
green lemon blossoms
of song sung in tongues
juicy as mangoes.

Tweet

Copyright © 2013 Peggy Shumaker All rights reserved
from Toucan Nest
Red Hen Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission