showing off, you kept track of individuals defined as drumming. trill. nasal yank. the birdiebirdiebirdie or the squeaky wheel. the calls that signify distress. the complex songs of courtship. i followed what you stalked, without distinction: nuthatch. warbler. ruffed grouse. through pine and spruce, through ash in patches. the grassy sod, forb covered. you weary of my inept step, my stumble keeping up. my little chirp of where? what? my cheepcheepcheep of questions. what pierced the mob before the gloaming? the second note descending—kee-ahh! before i saw the hawk i said nothing.

 

Kathleen Hellen is the recipient of the James Still Award, the Thomas Merton Prize for Poetry of the Sacred, and prizes from the H.O.W. Journal and Washington Square Review. Her debut collection Umberto’s Night won the poetry prize from Washington Writers’ Publishing House. She is the author of The Only Country Was the Color of My Skin, Meet Me at the Bottom, and two chapbooks.