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
