What We Watch
Do you, too, see wings in trees?
Cardinal feathers ruffle far-off branches,
swaying in an outlined oak.
Surrounding twigs, a stencil etch from this perspective—
embers poke holes into a canopy.
Do you, too, watch shadows across your porch?
Lamp light dim,
morning glow draws in charcoal lines.
A backyard swing
sketched from its model’s hanging—
the seat catches wind,
a portrait swells and retreats.
Do you, too, make shapes with your fingers?
Lips pucker between thumb and palm,
a chapel erects from intertwined hands.
Wrists hook, fingers stretch,
and a butterfly joins our play.
a swallow tail docks on my window—
its toes kiss the glass,
its tiger print wings span back,
a rest between flight.
It scans my sculpture hands,
my skin pale under kitchen lights,
and it launches—here, then gone.