Empowerment. Engagement. Authenticity.

Wish I Could See Him

The black-bird announces the morning

High on his mango branch;

I’ve never seen this black-bird perched

I only know what people say.

Heard feather-rustling through the leaves,

Heard twigs crack and ripe fruits fall

So he must be somewhere up there:

Amidst the leaves, sun and sky.

With a pulpy squish to the grass

The mangoes fall as he moves:

The winged phantom in my garden

Visible to all but me.

In that reckless voice he whistles

High on his mango branch -

I hear his voice, I hear his voice!

How does he look way up there?


(c) Kristy Kassie, March 2, 1999

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