Sunday, August 7, 2011

Now and Then and When

If I had somewhere to go
I'd be there.

Only now is only now,
orthogonal to then 
orthogonal to when.

Not talkin' about the birds. 

Or am I?

The flutter of blue wings
and a quick peck and 
a red splatter on denim.


Drop from the maple
in heavy august mist
and run to the cabinet
for the salve salve salve.


Feathers rise from the goop
and cycle of eggs and beak.

Past then tense and when future.

The clarity of a peacock
scratching the urban grit
of a granite window sill
is the only proof proof proof

of feathers and breath.

Now and then and when.

If I had something to say
I'd say it.


  1. Gerry,

    Sunday evenings are exciting once more!!

    A bird in the hand, perhaps being a little pensive and tensive at the same time, or at another time.

    Best wishes, Eileen

  2. @Eileen: Cheers love. Thanks for hanging on through the drought. And still reading the occasional sputtering. Ha!

  3. I like this a lot. Great color and progression.

    I am truly happy to be reading your poems again. Your work has always challenged me and helped me to remember that writing should be emancipating.

  4. as beautiful a narrative as it is a poem. loved the repeating motifs and the sense of time and tense... especially the tense. what an intriguing touch.

  5. @Megs: Still just messin' 'round. Only feel compelled to write sporadically and don't write without that compulsion. But thanks for the read.

    @Harlequin: Thanks hon. I've been a real slug in terms of readin' and writin' lately. I do appreciate your checkin' in. Peace.