2011/birds

Early morning birds,
jacaranda bloom hangs
below the porch roof,
a shock of purple when
you leave the house,
the most the tree has ever
bloomed.

The bird’s song seems
to fly away, more distant
and diminished by
the passing car.

Lately I’ve been trying
(harder) to hear my own
inner (song)
so unhysterical it’s easy
to avoid,
and so my parents,
lovers, husbands
friends, teachers, neighbors
and doctors did.
But most of all myself.
Pushing on with the day,
the necessities,
ignoring that small child voice
standing in the doorway
pointing to the bloom,
saying take care of me.

7/1/11