Seeking the Self, Beyond the Self
Our backyard feeders swing full of seed and suet.
Everywhere — this morning’s air swells with so many wings
scissoring shadows, allowing a flash of light to slice
through this cloudy day. . .
What spills to the ground — millet, milo, cracked
corn are discarded choices — a waste, lying on the matted grass,
still visible to sparrows willing to glean what they can
before signs and wonders, before one looming silhouette
scares them off this small parcel.
While preparing supper, I look out upon the empty
yard, and wonder where life has gone as I pour water
into the stockpot that I’ve had most of my life, and I
think picking the potatoes, onions, carrots is a grand
gesture, like the birds, I’m nervous of ineffable ticks
where resolutions appear to be just out of reach. . .
M.J. Iuppa’s fourth poetry collection is This Thirst (Kelsay Books, 2017). For the past 31 years, she has lived on a small farm near the shores of Lake Ontario. Check out her blog: mjiuppa.blogspot.com for her musings on writing, sustainability & life’s stew.