a Charlie Chan essay, will soon be posting
and a big manuscript of poetry covering
years 2007-2011. Here's a sneak peek:
Directions Folded to a Bird’s Wing
Walk down the steep hill, on a sidewalk
split by the roots of trees arching overhead.
Turn the corner to the left and then
you can hear the birds. It’s an aviary attached
to a house like a screened porch that’s trying
to bring the sky down and cage it in a space
only ten feet by ten. I’ve seen this through all
the seasons. In the gray wet Seattle winter
it’s covered by plastic so the cold can’t get in.
Rather than that, I’ll remember it as summer
when those African finches are singing their
hearts out and the sparrows and even the crows
will come to the bent wire corners to listen.