Richard B. Pelz Memorial: FROM MY HEART
FROM MY HEART
by Maria Smith
Robin blue heartbreakers:
three perfect eggs
In April I found a birds’ nest in my garden
near the fence in a hemlock
I watched the eggs and I waited for the babies to poke through to
taste their first breath of spring
I showed them off to people
those who had a heart for birds
One Monday I found them born
their mouths opened wide
pointed to the sky and I felt the moon rise
The white peach was in bloom
Rich made the best chicken curry I ever tasted
He brought bread dough in little balls to my kitchen
He put them on the gas burner
and they puffed and became naan
We dipped in the dal
He served sparkling cider to toast his unborn
His eyes were stars when he said “Emily.”
On a Wednesday the birds’ nest hung from the hemlock
empty
I thought: how quickly robins learn to fly
but they were on the ground
broken
unfinished
their flights unflown
Rich draws his name in Japanese
He holds his pen just so and
each grain of rice is separate
He says “mmm” after the plum tart
But none are as sweet as he
In the ground near the stone Buddha
my birds lie still in their nest and
I wonder where they would have flown
what songs would they have sung?
It was a Tuesday night, the twenty-fourth:
heads bowed in Kyoto, the Comanche moon was waning
there arose a cry: a new star is in the night
Sometimes at evening, cinnamon and tumeric whisper his name
In the dining room I still see Rich at the table
his back against a chair
Our last supper.
“Taste my chutney,” he says.
