original art by Melissa Jordan Willis
I don’t know where they’ve been
They flit and swoop
While branches crack
In gusty breaths of wind
Their shadows paint themselves on cinder block-
A blur of wings
Askew
Distorted
I am rushed and still
In the earthly garden
Bees and crows are blown about
The clouds are silk and satin
The golden pollen fills cracks in the concrete-
In the unreachable valleys of the barrel cactus spines
It’s April
It’s desert
It’s a mesquite roof of emerald
and winecups on lanky stems
In the jaws of fire ants
Foraged morsels move like legless beings
Into the hole
The hills in the sand
That grow overnight
Decay is always at hand
In fallen seed pods
In sun bleached logs
That recline as magnificent torsos
On the burial grounds of beloved pets
I threw the seed guts of a spaghetti squash
Into the dirt a week ago
Just because
New velvet leaves push up now and claim their turf
Where the scorpionweed unfurled its lacy fronds
in February.
Where her lilac heads curled and withered-
Where spaghetti squash will flower and fruit
So much to say
About the world today
A whirlwind of change on the stage of our commonwealth
There are no guarantees
As my Grandma used to say
I channel her guts
Her resolve to persist
I do it in my own way
To be true to myself
To know all is passing
And soon I’ll be gone
Too
To where the lemon yellow birds go
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