at dawn the morning after I look up from
a dark place, see a bird on the roughcast
wall that surrounds the terrazza
the wall waist-high, substantial, supports
clay pots heavy with succulents, cacti
the bird stands still in early light head cocked
as if trying to figure something out
hopes were so high…
the bird is beautiful in its subtle way
feathered throat rose-coloured, buff belly and back
none of the pretentios plumage of loud cousins
I know this bird, this quiet creature of the dawn
resting in cool air between clay pots
before the heat takes hold
About the author:
Lynda Wilde is a Canadian writer/photographer living between the cities of Kingston, ON, Canada, and Oaxaca de Juárez, Mexico. Her poetry and microprose have been published by in literary journals in Canada and the USA. Prose pieces were included in Guernica Edition’s 2022 Anthology of Canadian Flash Fiction Writers, ‘This Will Only Take A Minute’. Her book of poetry and photo images, ‘The Weight of Two Oranges’, was published by Wintergreen Studios Press, 2024. She was nominated for the Pushcart Prize 2024 by SAR, San Antonio Review.
Part of We Could Almost Touch It, a special feature exploring women’s rights and perspectives since the 2016 election.
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Tangled Locks Journal 