Tagged: tree

Beasts, Birds, Blue,

The Bestiary
“If only I could speak with birds,
with oysters and with small lizards,
with the foxes of Selva Oscura,
with representative penguins,
if the sheep would listen to me,
the languorous, woolly dogs,
the huge carriage-horses, if only
I could talk things over with the cats,
if the chickens could understand me!
…..What do pigs think of the dawn?
They don’t sing but they carry it
with their large pink bodies,
with their little hard hoofs.
The pigs carry the dawn.
The birds eat up the night.
And in the morning the world
is deserted:  the spiders sleep,
the humans, the dogs, the wind sleep,
the pigs grunt, and day breaks.
I want to have a talk with the pigs.
Sweet, loud, harsh-voiced frogs,
I have always wanted to be
a frog, I have loved the pools
and the leaves, thin as filaments,
the green world of the watercress
with the frogs, queens of the sky.
….And so gentlemen, I’m going
to have a talk with a horse,
let the poetess excuse me
and let the professor pardon me,
all week I’ll be busy,
I have to constantly listen.
What was the name of that cat?”
-Pablo Neruda

One night in Minneapolis, I stood below clouds of cawing crows, a great web of living, moving birds. there was a building with a flat roof, nearby a residential street lined with old growth trees, filling the sky with their skeleton branches, the air was still chilled with winter, but the ground was thawed and the snow mostly gone.  then that spring snow storm came, and i watched as thousands of crows filled the night sky, cawing and screaming moving in large webs of birds from tree top to tree top, moving down the street, taking their turns covering the top of the flat roofed building, warming their big hungry crow bodies.  the crows came back on their inner spring time clock, but the weather did not receive them kindly.  i suspect many of those birds parished as the ground was covered and food was hard to find to sustain them in the cold spring winter.

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