Yellow finches perchJam Session
on swaying Niger-seed feeders
while hummers change soundinto light. It’s early but windplays rhythm, whisks cluster-chord chimes, snares limbsof bellowing bass, swishessoft across pond’s skin.Tempo scoops and liftsspun wings of birdsimpatient red accentbuzz of vibrationmelodic quotation.They will jamuntil the sun grows highuntil Honeysuckle Rose whorlsher sweet trumpet in the gathering heat.
A woman bends for shells in the early light,the ample tenderness of her curved backa soft charcoal outline Degas might haverubbed, making summer out of pastel and canvas.Across her bare feet, a song of morning swooshespale green against the rounded, still form.Small children inch into the surf,their flowered hats blooming like water lilies.The woman’s spine, bent like a fishing rod,bows to the sea’s abundance, a connectionof give—and—take generosity.Finding her treasure, she rises, slowly, the shellcradled in her cupped hands. She smiles,pleased with the beauty she holds as the childrendraw near to see. Up above, gulls wing in the sheeted sky,their looped script, black and silver.The sun shifts, the shell gatherer rises, and memory nests,curved line inside the woman, inside the observer, inside the poem,where in the ongoing presentnothing is ever lost.haikutorn from tree for lovehoney-sharpened by fierce suntongues of bright mangoes
Mary Jo writes poetry in a spirit of discovery, of witness, and of trying to understand who she is and her place in the world. She has been published in Avocet, Passager, The Healing Muse, Verse Wisconsin and others. Bellowing Ark Press published two books of poems, Joy in the Morning, 2008, and Gathering the Harvest, 2012. Please visit her website for more information: maryjobalistreripoet.com