Nut brown sparrow, my operatic companion.
No sound from my poem, just her
three quick notes and a jumble of trills.
Warm April in the Peninsula suburb,
language in my hand. Stir of time,
branching a new way to write. I hear
her insistence. Silence is suspended
again. I walk closer in the cut grass
and ask her pardon for my intrusion.
Fledglings emerge from the birdhouse,
perch on the edge of the rim, falter, fall
away from the rail to damp earth.
She sings to them from her perch.
Her sound rides spring exhalations
from new leafed oaks and lilacs.
I hope for the third try and their wings lift,
song-filled and with new memory
of flight under wind-streaked feathers.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Nancy Huxtable Mohr has a B.A. from Cornell University and California Teacher’s Credential from SF State, as well as attending many conferences and classes at Stanford and Cornell. She is currently in independent study at Stanford University and is a member of the Squaw Valley Community of Writers. She has published in Mangrove, ZZYZZA, Bay Area Poet’s Coalition, Blueline, Concho RiverReview, Avocet and other publications. She has taught for ten years as member of California Poets in the Schools both in private and public schools and the San Mateo County Jail. She has published one book of poetry, The Well. Further information and work can be found on her website, NancyHuxtableMohr.org. She lives in Northern California.