More than once I’ve given away
all that was mine except a red pocketknife
and three changes of clothes. Even so
poems pursue me. They fill pockets of my
overalls and dangle from the hammer loop.
Words are companions. I keep them
close. They say what you seek is
seeking you. I was a fool to squander
praise, to flee from help. With the time
left I stand on the east span of the Tower Bridge
to wait for the vertical lift of the middle to
carry flocks of pearly pigeons skyward
as boats slip beneath the gold link
on their voyages upriver and down.
Sea lions bark from the sealed dock.
The osprey carries a fish home to its
nest upstream on I Street where
the bridge swings open for those boats
and passenger trains rattle through.
The abbess Milburga was known to levitate
and heal. She could communicate as well with birds.
She prayed to them to fly from the fields,
their wings looping thunderously toward the river
saving the crops to feed the people. In her handbook,
Mary Oliver tells us poems are as necessary as bread. Yes,
we hunger at times on this earth, bodies with beaks
and mouths, ready with desires and regrets to be fed.
Alexa Mergen is an amateur naturalist and an avid recreational swimmer in the pools and rivers near her home in downtown Sacramento, Calif.
Got something to say about what you're reading? We value your feedback!