Years later
your laughter hatches
in my ears as if
there were an egg
that had slowly, miraculously
incubated there
and now a bird
made of your voice
is aflight in my head,
its song your words
it swoops in my silence
and lands on my breath.
I come to it
quietly, quivering,
feed it my attention,
and all is vertigo
the years unhinged,
my own unruly wings
beat to meet you
my friend, my friend.
*written for Karen Chamberlain, whose collection of poems, Ephedra, will be released posthumously this summer.
Just two days ago, I read Lynda La Rocca’s poetic tribute to Karen Chamberlain, from her hot-of-the-Liquid-Light-Press: Spiral. How intriguing to read yours, now, Rosemerry. Alas, Ms Karen had already transfigured to what comes after before I ever got a chance to meet her.
Here’s the transformation for me:
“and now a bird
made of your voice
is aflight in my head,
its song your words…
A fine tribute to a nightingale.