Gathering to Watch the Birds

In the courtyard, groups of people
gathered to look at the bards.
A red one looked similar to a cardinal,
but with white flecks on the wings.
See, this skin’s sensitive.
I don’t know, something but it was ok.
A courtyard subgroup, meeting in
the courtyard anyway, has to determine
a time for Linda to make up for missing
all the Bible days. You don’t care?
Linda doesn’t care. Let’s just keep it on Wednesday.
When the birds began to arrive, the red one worked
so diligently to get me over there.
A huge white one.
It may have hurt when he hit you but it’s good
to notice when you stop hurting.
We’re all spending the night here together, ok?
A huge white one, felt uncomfortably white even though

This is North Woods.
You need a cross-section of the pickles, huh?
Dinner is almost over, anyway.
Did you read Journey to the End of the Road?
I’m talking to, from this website, I’m not sure who.
Remember the bookmarks.
The white one in the back, this is a new one that you aren’t using, Dad.
It’s back, fluffy back to me, fluffy fluffy back of the white owl.
Guardians would just love it.
She never needed to have her cheetah brushed, that
I can remember.

It’s probably the source of the black mold problem.
The courtyard groups of people gathered
to look at the bard. Even if I was registering
the most electable. I was reading the front page
about Ken Foster. I was reading and writing next
to a feeder, out the window.
I’m not saying anything I haven’t said a thousand
times, but there’s something that’s different near here.
Space consideration, is it?
Please don’t constrain your e.
In the courtyard, groups of people gathered
to look at the rain. Or maybe, like Robin
said, they need to tell people what they know,
and what they know sucks. In the courtyard groups
of people gathered to look at the earthling birds.
I walk away. I rose and ran up a spiral staircase into the woods.
There were groups of people with partners.
Gathered to watch, oh, it’s good inspiration. You can read
with me now: one, two, three.
When the birds arrived, Dadu thought I wouldn’t want to
choose to look at them. That’s nice. The courtyard wraps
the studio around your roots. Were these roots ever a feature
of the landscape around here?
The pretty pod crow situation was fierce.
When she and I rose and ran up a spiral staircase, I knew,
really, that April best described her. Put it out of my plan, there’s nothing

Backyard people gathered to look at the birds, which stood out.
I was reading and writing, all the way into Albany.
In the courtyard, groups of people are open to them.
Groups of people who
Wanna play but be sure they both have beads. Wanna
hike where people can go visit hiking, no phone calls.
We’re encountering people who say it’s apparently not enough.


Nancy Graham's poems and stories have appeared
in Aught, Chronogram, Prima Materia, and Eratio
(forthcoming). Her poetry chapbook, somniloquies,
is available from Pudding House Publications.













Copyright � 2005