Page 31 - Dark Matter Women Witnessing

Magpies

My dad used to say magpies were a nuisance bird.

I seem to see them everywhere I go.

Magpie flocks flutter in the pine trees in my yard.

They eat dog food from my dog’s dented metal dish.

I know what it’s like to feel unwanted, like my existence,

my words are a nuisance and are not welcomed.

I will never kill a magpie.

I will remember magpie mothers

who must feed their young no matter what.

I will remember black hooded heads and black eyes

that know these trees and lakes and deer from the sky.

I will remember that nobody can be wanted all the time.

One time or another, we have all been magpies.

What My Cat Would Say to Me

Sometimes I like to stretch out belly to dirt my face close to the earth.

I can hear things you can’t understand. I would like to tell you

how much I love your hands on my head, my back, my ribs.

I would like to tell you what it’s like to climb a pine tree at night beneath the stars

and how all living creatures have wise things to say.

There are times when all I can do is sit next to your arms

when you weep silently in the wee hours of the night.

I wish I could tell you how much the trees love you,

how much the moon loves you, and how there is good magic in your dreams.

Tonight, when you sleep, I will look at your closed eyes in the moonlight.

I will listen to you breathing, and I will purr a thousand lullabies just for you.