She’s fascinated
by birds
I’m captivated
by bones
always optimistic,
she calls me pessimist
but I’m a realist, I say
is it just coincidence?
that she’s drawn
to living things
while I’m humming along
to songs of death
attractive opposites
and all that
but we really are
a perfect pair
I cheer her up
when her eyes turn dark clouds
or I give her space
if that’s what she needs
she makes me laugh
when I refuse to smile
she anchors me
reels me in
when I drift away
Magpies from her youth
Sparrows in the yard
Northern Flicker peck-peck-pecking
Blue Jays hit her heart
but she sees Crows the most
and what do I see?
but dead squirrels
in the street
a bird with broken wing
I used to have a spirit animal
a Coyote
or a Wolf
I saw him under bridges
hidden in tall grass
but I haven’t seen him
in a dozen years
did this beast take flight?
or flower into bones
I see
the plain underbelly
she sees
the decorated wings
if I had to choose one now
I know it’d be an Owl
I’ve heard him at my window
I’ve seen him up on high
Steve Shultz is a poet, mailman, and former journalist from Aurora, CO. His third poetry collection, Pancreatic Care Package, was published in September by West Vine Press. He blogs sporadically at https://fmghost.wordpress.com.
South Broadway Ghost Society 