I'm

Seems Like an Eternity

 

“It’s the delayed record of my regret.”            -Kim Hyesoon

​

​​-1-

 

I remember all the

dreams of flying I had when

I was a child

 

I would float up to the sky,

or ceiling, and then just

take off

 

The dreams were in color,

but, so what.

 

∞         ∞         ∞

​

-2-

​

Ida’s yellow canary sang

its sweet song every

morning

 

even when his cage was

covered and he could

see nothing

 

except the hand-stitched

cowling that covered

the metal bars.

 

∞         ∞         ∞

 

-3-

 

We had a parakeet for

years, though I don’t

remember his name

 

He happily hopped around

his three-story bird

condo until the day

 

he developed mange,

then spent the rest of his

life in our basement.

 

∞         ∞         ∞

 

-4-

 

Foo-Foo died an early-

bird death.  We buried

her in the yard

 

near the new swing set,

between the brown coated

fence and the 1-car garage.

 

Our ceremony was short,

but not without merit.  We

gave her a good send-off.

 

∞         ∞         ∞

 

-5-

 

There’s the family story

of a dime-store bird set free

in the dead of the winter

 

they say by my father, who,

on reaching his last straw,

flung open the door.

 

They swear that it’s true, but

I’m not sure.  It happened years

before I was born.

 

∞         ∞         ∞

 

-6-

 

Feeders draw mice, or

so said the neighbor, so

we stopped filling them

 

After years of providing for

our best-feathered friends,

we gave up with no argument.

 

I still see descendants of

the original pigeons who home

their way back to our yard.

 

∞         ∞         ∞

​

-7-

 

In Aesop’s fable, the

peacock asks Juno for the

voice of a nightingale.

 

Greedy and proud, he wants

his voice coveted, as well as

his peacock feathers.

 

“Be content with your lot,” he’s

taught.  “One cannot be first in

everything.”

 

∞         ∞         ∞

​

-8-

 

We drove to the crane sanctuary

and saw cranes

 

lots of them, doing craney-type

things

 

then got back in the car and

drove home.

 

∞         ∞         ∞

​

-9-

 

The December goose, slain by

coyote or sly fox, whose remains

stayed long by the pond

 

ultimately froze, held fast

to the ground by ice and cold,

almost unrecognizable.

 

I passed it each day as I went

for my walk and exhaled

warm puffs through my scarf.

 

∞         ∞         ∞

 

-10-

 

That recurring dream … have

you dreamt such a thing,

where you forget

 

to feed or water or nurture

your bird, or even, just for a

moment, talk to it . . .

 

only remembering just

seconds before its death the

responsibility you shirked?

​​

​

“I’ll overcome this existence. Finally, I’ll be free of it.” 

-Kim Hyesoon

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