by Minnie A. Collins
Stay Places
On kitchen window ledge
Eyes flicked; feathers flapped
In flights from red holly, evergreen cone seeds
Back to a sun-drenched rain sheltered sanctum
Of twigs, hair, bark, yarn, string, lichen,
An annual ritual against covert predators;
Without warning, wind gusts
Swirled needles, mud flecks, strings
Once woven with time, love, immunity
Toppling the sheltered sanctum;
Flight wings, forlorn, futile
Fluttered against the pane
Screeching as feet ensnared the screen;
I took time to stare, to move closer to the pane
To find the scattered refuge
To understand our kindred nature:
Compassion, immunity, empathy and pain
Hopefully never alone!
Returning to the ledge, weary yet impatient
Twists, loops, mud, gird our shelters,
Defying vulnerable agitations
Circumventing catastrophes
Repositioning common places
To stay places that you and I name.
Minnie A. Collins is a South Seattle poet, writer, and all-around amazing human being.
Featured image: by Stephen L. Harlow.