Nestlings and Feathers

When flipping through my summer sketchbook, I came upon my painting of a dead bluejay nestling—a colorful sack of guts. 
I then thought about those other intimate dramas of vulnerable birdlife, often witnessed through dew-soaked remains or simply 
a heap of fluttering feathers. So I chose to create a video using Dan’s poems “Maelstrom” and “Hawk Feather,” mingling our 
responses to those moving encounters.
                                                                                                   — Suzanne 


"Maelstrom" and "Hawk Feather"                                                                          

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Maelstrom

    (Or Dance of the Fallen Nestlings)

Splayed on the dark

   roadside by a wind

that whirled against

   our screen all night,

tossing sleep into

   strange streaks of

dream, and sucking

   three wet sacks of

bluejay life from

   hemlock boughs into

a ringlet of bright

   dancers, mouthing

cries of ecstasy

   above blue wing-

stubs nearly grasped

   like fragile hands,

still featherless,

   upon an urn in

late May’s icy

   light.

Hawk Feather

A tail feather

was all ... breeze-

spun to the wood-

pile.  Fawn-brown

ribbed with touches

of soft black —

stirring the ire

of our backyard

woods, like code,

that balmy noon.

Grackles, crows

shrieked down as

one from linden

boughs.  Demon

guardians of the

heartpulse buried

in each hidden

heap of fluff that

bright spring

noon?

_____________________________________________________________________

“Maelstrom” and “Hawk Feather” first appeared 
in Puerto del Sol and Shenandoah, respectively. 
Then, together, in our collaborative chapbook, 
Field Notes (Rubicon press, Edmonton /
Alberta, Canada, 2007).