Hummingbird

Amazingly all 5 of us
are together in the backyard
checking on the
strawberries
so as to not miss
one’s perfect ripeness,

and a humming bird zooms in.

He is here and there
and here again, sampling
each raspberry bloom.

All eyes are on him
including two quite young ones
and four feline.

He comes quite close
to get a particularly appetizing
looking flower.

He stays longer than I
expect him to,
unafraid of us
as we stand still.

And then with a woosh
he is off to his next
adventure

and we go inside
to make our dinner
and eat our strawberries.

Death in the country

Out here
in this country life
we are surrounded by death.

But it is not as sad
as you would think.

It is small
and natural
and common.

On good days
it is not cruel

but not every day
is a good day.

Sometimes it brings tears
and seems horribly
unfair.

But I think it is
a good place
to learn
of it.

Where it is
usual
and small
and often feels
more forgivable.

 

 

Recently published by The Galway Review : http://thegalwayreview.com/2015/06/12/susie-sweetland-garay-three-poems/

4th of July

Darkness is coming
so we gather wood
on the beach to
build our fire.
 
The flames are lovely and
though we are not alone here,
we might as well be.
 
The darkness protects us.
 
We light leftover fireworks
one by one throwing them
towards the water
in the dark
watching as they spin
and burn out.
 
Then our ordinary show
becomes remarkable
when a wave coming closer
with the incoming tide
takes one, still lit, and
carries it toward the sea.
 
It is still spinning as it floats away.
We watch the sparks become smaller
and it seems a long time
before she sinks.

The first time we hear the coyotes after a long winter

I leave the window open,
no matter how cold,
so we can hear them
as she falls asleep,
high pitched and sweet.

Later as the rest of the house sleeps
I think about each choice I have made,
what I did and what else I could have done.

Maybe if I had made another choice
things would be better, perfect even.

Or maybe we would still be here in this,
or some very similar, uncomfortable place.
So I try to listen to a friend who tells me,
You are one hell of a mother,

and this time I am glad
to be alone and awake at this hour.
I have missed this song.