California Towhee

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You won’t sing beyond soft dissolved for me

oh sweet quiet bird?

yet, can I sense your feet

scurry from twig to creek?

or with my wanting seize you

atop hill spyglass wooden gallery

with my eye, almost, not quite

invisible?

Cinnamon and warm blend--

you pleading, mute, vocalist

the night; dusky,

unstartled, vigilant

and then

a hillslope

and silent pale-grey

chaparral

           by Heather O'Connor