April 13th

Out on the Limb

There is never a guarantee of flight:
unchecked gravity & weight of fright.
The push, when angry, hurts us all,
to make a child cry, then brace the fall.

April 11th

A Family Affinity

My father's books on birds rest on several shelves,
an inheritance I did not wait to be assigned.
Each year one or another is pulled from its place
to double-check the facts on a familiar friend
or on luckiest days to search for color, spot, & song.
My wife endures our chants & putterings
from window to window to catch the best glimpse.
Tonight, talk of a diet of worms & bugs
sent the biggest brother to the shelf for research.
Out of a grandfather's collection,
a grandson's career as a naturalist is born,
one more beautiful case of collaboration
between the gone & the growing.