Two loves. A redwing blackbird -a sign. Maybe it was nothing and just my imagination, but in the moment it felt so significant. Thus, this poem.
and the destination
came into view,
there it was -
a redwing blackbird,
maybe a common bird
to most,
but to my eyes,
a novelty.
The car stopped.
This beauty deserved
observation,
a moment to be treasured,
and treasure it I did.
The moment remains,
burned into my memory.
It was to be our last trip.
We never saw that coming.
We were caught up -
in country music,
the life of the King,
and making memories.
A Tennessee road trip.
Our last hurrah.
That blackbird,
common though it is,
represented
a moment in life
when love stood out
as exceptional.
When I felt safe
to be me.
He did not flinch
nor take offense
when I screamed,
“Stop the car!”
Time passed.
He passed.
Then one day,
on a straw market visit
to a low country city
fair and famous,
with a new love,
safe and exceptional too,
the redwing blackbird
appeared again.
I felt its pull.
Red against black,
wings held still in paint.
Breath catching,
I held it to heart.
And in that pause,
I remembered
that love lives
in the soft, quiet moments
of acceptance and awe
and does not stop for death.
Poetry by Melinda K Zarate
Read 41 times
Written on 2026-01-03 at 00:03
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Uncommon Wings
As dusk felland the destination
came into view,
there it was -
a redwing blackbird,
maybe a common bird
to most,
but to my eyes,
a novelty.
The car stopped.
This beauty deserved
observation,
a moment to be treasured,
and treasure it I did.
The moment remains,
burned into my memory.
It was to be our last trip.
We never saw that coming.
We were caught up -
in country music,
the life of the King,
and making memories.
A Tennessee road trip.
Our last hurrah.
That blackbird,
common though it is,
represented
a moment in life
when love stood out
as exceptional.
When I felt safe
to be me.
He did not flinch
nor take offense
when I screamed,
“Stop the car!”
Time passed.
He passed.
Then one day,
on a straw market visit
to a low country city
fair and famous,
with a new love,
safe and exceptional too,
the redwing blackbird
appeared again.
I felt its pull.
Red against black,
wings held still in paint.
Breath catching,
I held it to heart.
And in that pause,
I remembered
that love lives
in the soft, quiet moments
of acceptance and awe
and does not stop for death.
Poetry by Melinda K Zarate
Read 41 times
Written on 2026-01-03 at 00:03
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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D G Moody |
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William Hughes |
