The swish of skirt swirling
in desert winds, beneath stars
that breathe her name,
captures your ear, and
urges you to hear murmurs
from heaven.
.
.
(Reading Jerry Spinelli’s Stargirl in class)
poem- tonight April 24, 2014
Tonight
walking to the mailbox
I am stalked by mist
The lights blink through
the neighbours trees:
stars above,
down town below.
It’s so black between the lamps,
I expect deep quiet,
beneath the rustle of new leaves,
but the highway hums in the distance.
Trucks travel with an insistent drone
that climbs the hill to my house,
and silence suffers
in the hustle of their incessant transitions.
Shawn L. Bird 