articulation...

birds deploy mightily

with weightless feathers

attitude at altitude

emotive on the wind

they hurl themselves

in warm blooded silence 

rocketing through space

birds navigate by faith

an impossibility of air

threadlike through fabric

they weave patterns

that culminate a life

birds are as immediate

and singular as language 

as words that also deploy

upon the properties of air

attenuated chariots of tuition

that catapult free floating

through space to mingle 

surge and ebb fluidly
within the shifting, morphing

body of their murmuring flock

formulating tissues of comprehension

with which their framers

cloak mystery with beauty,

query, challenge and rebellion   

they mount the atmosphere

wings deployed to escalate

then fold back their meaning

purposefully to their sides

like swift adamant arrows

they rush joyfully onward

bravely to meet their mark...

lucy meskill

focus...

Let not the parade
of our fleeting attention
pass quickly over
the heads of children
fallen upon the sword
of our nation's denial
about the state of fear
in which we reside.
Innocence calls to us
to raise our eyes to face
the unspeakable disaster
that inattention has wrought.
Driving this car while sleeping
has drawn us all into a chasm
from which all of us will arise
except the few who always
give absolutely everything
they ever have, and so much more...

lucy meskill

lace...

light seeps through

what I wanted to say

like a breeze

through open work
interlocked patterns

that prickle my skin

tingling, tickling
up my spine

your attention

reads me like Braille

beneath the covers
where we lay

and murmur secrets
on soft breath like leaves
whispering gently
to the warm summer air...

lucy meskill

proximity...

nearby words

jostle me

like strangers

on a bus

rummaging

left and right

the pockets

of my mind

trailing pollen

as bees do
waking flowers

seeding cognition

prying seams

stretching wool

leaving traces

glistening bright
of half-eaten candy
to be savored later...

lucy meskill

Bear, a dream...

Bear

wanted to be

human

to stop

running

to be warm

comfortable

and

unwild

Bear

settled 

down

and bought

a house

and a car

Bear

got

a life

and now

Bear says

that honey

only tastes

like honey

whereas before

honey 

tasted

as precious

and sweet

as the last meal

before

the end of the world...

lucy meskill