Glaciers are Melting!
We prize the tropics, cruise them,
Dream of beaches and slight breezes,
Warm ourselves with thoughts of
Escaping south, turning away toward
A constant sun, a sun to reassure us that
We deserve heat and comfort, that we
Were born for light and small shadows,
For beauty and bounty, for greenery and
Growth, deep flowers and dragonflies,
That we should float gently across the day,
Trailing a hand, a hand to write our names
In the warming water.
Humming Birds
If you watch to see
the solemn grace of them,
the face of them -
they're so hard to imagine -
they hover, move, maneuver,
a study of control this
small in proportion,
beyond explanation.
They sip the feeder
with a dignified calm
the other birds lack;
their wings blur, hold them
steady, like that.
Surprise us so quickly
we want to call someone
else to see them arrive,
then pause.
They seem oddly curious
so serious about their objective
to eat so daintily
and then they are gone.
They’d swoop and
stir the darkness –
one place
then another
they’d dive
attack like bees
but silent
unless we screamed
or our running
doors closing.
Their sinister intent
was vague at best –
catch in our hair
drink our blood
ruin bedtime
flapping the room
the stuff of dreams
and dark night
vampires and
willful witches
a part of the thrill
of innocent fear
easy to watch for
so easy to avoid
a childhood fear
so easy to describe.
J.
K. Durick is presently a writing teacher at the Community College of
Vermont and an online writing tutor. His recent poems have appeared in
Third Wednesday, Four and Twenty, and Literary Juice.
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