In this wild acre left of a landowner’s bored
lawn, goldfinches perch upside-down.
White-capped-yellow-backed flit on switchgrass.
Unhurried—singing—have waited
until thistle & milkweed, clover & teasel—
fruited & seeded to nest and breed.
A pointed bill cracks any seed’s tough packaging.
Nestlings swallow a strict diet of regurgitated.
Spider web silk is glue. Cupped in the fork
of a branch. Let cattail-fluffed & squalid
nests stay messed with shit—why not?
A meadow’s a reckless habitat of don’t subtract.
Do you know mow (noun)—pronounced like cow—
is a scowl?
Leave a patch of lawn alone—let a charm—let
goldfinches
—
Kelly DuMar is a poet, playwright and workshop facilitator from Boston. She’s author of four poetry collections, including jinx and heavenly calling, published by Lily Poetry Review Books. Her poems and images are published in Bellevue Literary Review, Tupelo Quarterly, Thrush, Flock and more. Kelly facilitates expressive arts support groups for psychologists and therapists working in war zones. She produces the Featured Open Mic for the Journal of Expressive Writing. Reach her at kellydumar.com
