Aida Schneider   © 2011 All Rights Reserved

Twy


Perhaps he is a cooperís
or a sharp-shinned, Iím too green to know,
or a red-shouldered, yes thatís
just what she is, her breast dusk-
colored all day long. She may as well
be a she and red-shouldered, for itís
we who have to make up our minds,
out scouring the waters
as she drains the skylight twy.
Together we see ó intoxicate
to see at once ó that meteor raptor
pinioned to herself, flung like sky
upon some likely vole below the oak-
studded headland where we, stunned,
stand in the mumbling sunlight
of mid-winter, yes I mean now,
surrounded by a tree skirt of calm,
rippling out from dollop of impact.

 


John OíReilly
Copyright © 2011  

John OíReilly has had work published or accepted in Red River Review, Oklahoma Review, Poetry Quarterly, and Santa Clara Review. He is the winner of the 2011 Redwood Writers Poetry contest. He makes his living writing computer programs for large, preoccupied corporations. John lives in Sonoma, California.
 


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