Sunday, December 14, 2008


Photo by S. Auberle

"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart
and try to love the questions themselves."
- Rainer Maria Rilke
Walking the beach road today
I am questioning...
what drove me this year,
what force held me in its grip,
shook it's shaggy head as it toyed with me?
A pileated woodpecker raucously questions
who are you
I breathe in cold, say I still don't know,
stretch out legs long, trying to step
in the footprints of one who came before me.
Dark shape draws my eyes,
a wing lying in the snow.
Torn from the body--large,
the texture of dark velvet--I pick it up
carry it in my mittened hand.
It seems important to question this
to think about what happened
to remember that nature does not concern herself
with who lost this wing, or how...
if it was a fox came upon the bird
or coyote. The bird lived and then died
and it may be the kits of a pregnant fox
will survive because of it.
I see myself--sixty something,
carrying a wing down a road near dark...
this is a poem, I think.
So is the one-winged carcass
buried somewhere in the snow.
So too the shaggy beast,
licking its bloodied paws.
- mimi


Anonymous Anonymous said...

I really enjoyed this. Thanks for sharing. and yes, it's a poem.

6:55 PM  
Blogger mimi said...

thanks, e.b.
there was a time when I wouldn't
have thought so...
but it's all poetry, isn't it?

6:27 PM  

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