This close encounter happened this morning on the way to work, and this first draft will have to serve as a start of its telling.

—

the turkey, red-bronze-shiny walked
out of the brush in front of my car.
I slammed on my brakes,
hoping the car behind me would slow
and he eventually did see
the great bird launch
and fly into view and across the road.
Now three cars, unscathed
continued slower on towards town.
Amazing how much detail I saw of him
in that moment as our paths crossed,
the dots and ticks and bands of color.
His head held high, windshield high,
daring my little car not to stop in time.
I’ve wondered how those wide wings
fly through woods without knocking twigs
and branches down in their wake.
A half-mile later I saw something large –
overhead a blue heron passing dark,
all prehistoric and unworldly.
Last night, I’d seen a great falling star
shoot down ahead of my travels and
though it posed no threat it also made me gasp
to see the world in action around me.
I couldn’t help but note the birds travelled
in the same direction, a pond-side rendezvous?
Or a plan to make me see the world
as something other than myself
travelling alone in the world of man.

Berkshire April

Despite a string of cold icy mornings
the daffodils eventually hurl their yellow
across the brown rubble of the early garden
For weeks we watch the ground for them.
Reports of their swordlike greens
breaking through the earth pass among us.
I am told my friend’s are “showing color”
in the swelling buds still on short stems.
She asks, what if it snows tonight?
My mother sends me a photo, her email
announcing “spring’s finally here, but it’s cold.”
After the snows of December and January
we watch the empty ground for the green points
that tell us there was reason to hope,
that winter does once more give way to spring.
Although the early crocus and snowdrops
have bloomed and gone in the shy corners of the yard
the daffodils stand across the front garden
their numbers increasing year to year.
Others have sung of them, happy, dancing,
with words studied in every classroom.
But when I myself behold at last my daffodils,
no matter what day they arrive or how cold
I get down on the ground to take a yearly photo
with gladness for the spring.

14 April 2013