2 Poems from 'How Do the Parakeets Stay Green?'

Two poems from ‘How Do the Parakeets Stay Green?’ published by Indigo Dreams Publishing Limited

HOW DO THE PARAKEETS STAY GREEN?

1.

Bats swift past our balcony,

flit, dark, and then gone.

Dusk, and this vast city where 

we’ve lost too many years.

 

2.

 By the man-made lake

a crow shines darkly,

beak open to swallow the sun. 

I’d do the same, that burning 

heat on my tongue,

if I weren’t tied to many things,

I’d open feathered wings,

ride high notes of wind, and

with every rising

I’d breathe in.

 

3. 

 The city sprawls before us,

her concrete skin all too familiar,

 we have travelled her veins 

too many days to number .

 Chameleons, we’re turning 

grey to match her.

THE BRUISING STONES

 Then I was a fish, sliding

my marbled body over 

the bruising stones,

blue limbed, pale, and 

misted as Scottish mornings.

 

Later we sat, a circle, fire

smoked our salmon skin, 

an adventure away from walls,

rules, all things that

bewildered us.

Hot chocolate comfort wrapped 

in my numb fingers, thick and

semi-sweet as darkness. 

Your faces lit fire-glow 

between shadows.

 

You have scattered since

like feathered dandelion tops,

migrating birds, those flocks

of geese we used to watch 

leaving each year.

 

I am living as a human now,

fully grown, carving 

my life in stone buildings,

searching for the ways,

the words, to stay in touch

with us when we were fishes.