Northern Flicker, Highway 2 (Colaptes auratus)    Marc Beaudin

You hold the yellow of sunlight

in wings and tail,

fill the pines with your manic laughter

 

My first glimpse of you:

a flash of gold

changing a simple forest

into a place of magic

where anything could happen

and sunlight flowed from the darkness of the wood

 

Your eye is the black of the raven

Your feet write incomprehensible haiku in the mud

Your beak is a blade of obsidian

Your tongue is a long, sharp thorn

Your blood

 

is so alarmingly red

and I’m sorry I didn’t hit my brakes

quite hard enough.

 

Marc Beaudin has published three chapbooks of poetry: “When

God Was a Child,” The Lost Writings of Miscellaneous Jones,”

and “Saginaw Songs” with fellow poet Al Hellus. His first novel,

A Handful of Dust, was published in 2002. His work has been chosen

for inclusion in an anthology of contemporary American poetry

in Turkish translation to be published in Ankara, Turkey. Information

on his work can be found at:

http://healtheearth.tripod.com.

 

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