“Grackle Poem” by Lois Harrod
Pitch swan,
know-it-all crow,
oil-spill signify––
black in the bottom grass,
large and lanky,
long-tailed strut of tongue
my murky grackle
with your chunky beak––
the sun shatters your feathers
bronze and blue––
ripples
the opalescent Mediterranean.
The darker my heart
the more dash and trace.
Can you see
my rush
my streak and hue?
Yes, I am naked now
black––
a village devested
of iridescent plumes.
But to talk feelings
is sentimental––
how that old cock Picasso hated
his weeping hens.
Your bill, my grackle,
is heavy–
more than I believed
I could pay.
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Lois Harrod Artist Statement:
I am a poet, writer, painter, printer and mentor.
What does my writing/art mean to me? My joy and my life–to create is to know.
