Engaging with Nature
JOHN GREY
The cardinal flies off.
It has no interest in being close to you. Don’t bother looking at the upper branches of the tree. Or even the sky. It knows you’re not a hawk but your babyish “Here little birdie” doesn’t translate into avian. The bird is out of here, gone where you can’t follow. You’re stuck with gravity and the job you set yourself in the first place, to trowel and seed the garden. And don’t bother trying to engage the butterfly in conversation. Or to buzz in child-like imitation of the bee. You’re human. You’re grounded. Maybe by summer you’ll have roses. Something red to talk to. To pick when they don’t talk back. |
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in That, Dalhousie Review, Thin Air and North Dakota Quarterly with work upcoming in Qwerty, Chronogram and failbetter.