ISSUE: Summer 2006
I longed to teach the child
the pinheaded oscillating glide
of the turkey buzzard,
nimble serene accipiter,
chunky-tailed spiraling buteo
and scissoring merlin,
osprey lofted like a spark,
bold V of a harrier
locking the dusk
and I wanted her to mimic them
with key mistakes, running in circles
until she tripped and lay looking up
at the first faint stars
and I could comfort her.
But that was long ago.
Square stems of wild mint
rattled in the breeze
from the river of stones.
The hummingbird had built a nest
of thimbleweed and down
and let it fill with pollen.
A last busload of families
surged past me, Kodaks poised,
children balking and preening,
eyes bright and oblique,
solemn rapt father
explaining the night sky.
