Bonnie Greenley

EAGLE’S PREY IN THE SANCTUARY

A widgeon, just above waving fingers of grass,
flaps wildly with the shadow of death in tow. 
Quickly then, one more pass around a sun sprinkled lake

to drink in everything it’s ever known under this stained
blue dome.  A last look at the lilies floating prayers,
stigmata of lotus flame in open palms. 

Assemblies of cattails sway solemn in the wind and all is
immersed in the sonorous hymns of red-winged blackbirds,
king fishers, crows, the familiar geese.  Bulrushes

bow as death’s head and tail flash white, disappearing
with the duck behind a crumbling homestead
where, in a low whisper of willows, they finally meet. 

Nothing protests or even pauses
except a single indigo damselfly,
its glass wings, gone suddenly, still.

SUNSET

after the blazing sun set
you came to me, burning

I welcomed your beautiful fire
sweet affection flickering in your eyes

my skin sparked at the touch of your fingers
the room filled with musky smoke

we both went up in flames!

until all that remained was the tender of glow of embers
each leaning into the other

before sleep came and slipped us into its soft, cool water


WATER MUSIC

Walking alone on the beach I sing to the ocean.
I imagine someone on some distant shore walking alone does the same.
Our voices are carried on gusting winds over crests of waves until somewhere in the middle they meet in a collision of harmony and are swallowed by the sea, fodder for sirens. After centuries of ebb and flow, some child playing in the sand picks up a shell, presses it to his ear, and hears us.

WHO?

this nocturne is no still life
here, there are eyes like the moon
that see in the darkness
exactly what the moon sees

here, a body soft as smoke
moves as soundless as shadows
whose delicate ears capture the heartbeat
of scurrying fur or the coiling of
scales as told by a few blades of grass

in this nocturne, as mist sifts into
the meadow, hemlocks burn white
beside a pond torched by the moon
and voiceless wings go unseen
listening for an answer
one question
echoes