My Giverny

“Beyond painting and gardening, I am good for nothing.”

Claude Monet

It’s just a bird preserve, a tidal pond
across the street from Sparhawk Prep,
the sky a bolt of azure blue, the pond
a woven shantung silk, two benches
and no birds except some days

maybe a small white duck, a shy egret
and rarely but spectacularly, a great blue heron
swooping out from driftwood piled beneath the bank
his long grey beak a sharp cornet, his wings
a bobbing regiment like waves of Irish Infantry
still marching to Antietam.

The morning light reveals a sea
of pale pink lotuses, Buddha! The leaves
turn into palms the petals fold, and now
the birds are everywhere, my God,
their cries are everywhere!

Grateful to Deirdre Fagan, Editor of the beautiful new issue of Orange Blossom Review (Issue 15). I’m honored to be included among poets Gery Deuhr, Wendy Wisner, and Sean Thomas Dougherty.