day ten
five days together,
scrambling around swamps and shorelines,
passing the binoculars back and forth,
taking photographs, and flipping through Sibley's;
cedar waxwings foraging in a tree,
a kestrel hovering intently over a field,
brown pelicans plunging into the sea -
we saw fifty-nine species of birds,
at least if you count the dead ones.
i found an intact bivalve shell half-buried in the wet sand;
you told me i should keep it.
*
now, five days later,
i'm sitting at home wondering what happened.
my headset rests unused next to my monitor,
on skype, a question mark appears next to your name,
and sitting on the shelf are the two halves of that bivalve shell;
it must have broken on the way home.
i flip through my photos,
and i think about that young razorbill we found,
pristinely feathered in black and white,
his body lying lifeless in the sand.
(© 2013 Cassander)
scrambling around swamps and shorelines,
passing the binoculars back and forth,
taking photographs, and flipping through Sibley's;
cedar waxwings foraging in a tree,
a kestrel hovering intently over a field,
brown pelicans plunging into the sea -
we saw fifty-nine species of birds,
at least if you count the dead ones.
i found an intact bivalve shell half-buried in the wet sand;
you told me i should keep it.
*
now, five days later,
i'm sitting at home wondering what happened.
my headset rests unused next to my monitor,
on skype, a question mark appears next to your name,
and sitting on the shelf are the two halves of that bivalve shell;
it must have broken on the way home.
i flip through my photos,
and i think about that young razorbill we found,
pristinely feathered in black and white,
his body lying lifeless in the sand.
(© 2013 Cassander)