Author's Note: On the coast of California where I live, nuances of climate, wildlife, wildfire are before my eyes every day. Here are two poems that address that. One from the last book, one from the next.
My brother says he fears the fire, since rain has come and sun-burnt hills seethe green in shrub and flower. I’ve heard the tales, but never seen the flash of green at sunset. I strain for faith in what remains unseen. If it’s true that each contains the seed of other, then I too expect to see the fire burn green.
From Gravity: New & Selected Poems
In Terram Incidere
Now, dead birds on sand: fifteen pelicans, cormorants by the score, seagulls so numerous we don’t count them anymore. Terns on their autumn trip karr-reek past the browning sun. Migrants, stay on the fly. If you must fall, please fall from a different sky.
forthcomming in Threnody
©2021 Donna Hilbert
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