“Bird”

I’ve spent the last hour sifting through an anthology of women poets. After touching on Adrienne Rich and Bella Akhmadulina, I landed on the arresting “Bird,” by a Hungarian poet named Agnes Nemes Nagy.

**

There’s a bird perched on my shoulder,
twin-bird, bird born with me.
It’s grown so large, grown so heavy
each step I take is torture.

Dead weight, dead weight, dead weight on me.
I’d shove it off – it’s tenacious,
it claws into my shoulder
like the roots of an oak tree.

An inch from my ear: the sound
of its horrible bird-heart throbbing.
If it flew off one day
I’d drop down to the ground.

**
Not to go all classroom on you, but… feel free to comment on what happens after she drops.

Posted in: Uncategorized

4 thoughts on ““Bird”

  1. Sandra says:

    She cries because she is happy, sad, and afraid all at the same time. Then she picks herself up and learns how to walk with a lighter load. For the first time she is able to recognize her own weight, her own worth.

    Like

  2. tealara says:

    Lying still on packed earth.
    Silence.
    Then, my own still-steady heartbeat,
    rhythmic breath; shards of light.

    That bird, my phantom twin,
    a shadow returning, returning.
    Screeching dissent
    as I reclaim power and strength.

    At last,
    with roots solidly gripping earth
    I launch skyward,
    myself alone.

    Like

Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s