"Bees See You Face as a strange flower" Poem

"Bees see your face as a strange flower."

by Naomi Shihab Nye

—LiveScience.com

Nashville warblers see you as a scary-looking tree.

Garden snakes slithering into lilies see you as a storm.

The abandoned house perceives a possible doctor.

You sweep up mouse crumbs, then turn your back.

Children on the other side of the world see you as glittering.

Depressive sees your smile as a threat.

Dude playing top volume rap sees old lady staring back.

The sea, the sky, the air see us as trouble.

They're right of course.

We see each other as the landmarks of a day.

History doesn't see us. It doesn't see us at all.

From this we should draw one ounce of relief.

The Animals are Leaving - Poem

The Animals are Leaving

One by one, like guests at a late party
They shake our hands and step into the dark:
Arabian ostrich; Long-eared kit fox; Mysterious starling.

One by one, like sheep counted to close our eyes,
They leap the fence and disappear into the woods:
Atlas bear; Passenger pigeon; North Island laughing owl;
Great auk; Dodo; Eastern wapiti; Badlands bighorn sheep.

One by one, like grade school friends,
They move away and fade out of memory:
Portuguese ibex; Blue buck; Auroch; Oregon bison;
Spanish imperial eagle; Japanese wolf; Hawksbill
Sea turtle; Cape lion; Heath hen; Raiatea thrush.

One by one, like children at a fire drill, they march outside,
And keep marching, though teachers cry, "Come back!"
Waved albatross; White-bearded spider monkey;
Pygmy chimpanzee; Australian night parrot;
Turquoise parakeet; Indian cheetah; Korean tiger;
Eastern harbor seal; Ceylon elephant; Great Indian rhinoceros.

One by one, like actors in a play that ran for years
And wowed the world, they link their hands and bow
Before the curtain falls.

By: Charles Harper Webb

Poem: Turtle by Kay Ryan

Turtle
by Kay Ryan

Who would be a turtle who could help it?

A barely mobile hard roll, a four-oared helmet,

she can ill afford the chances she must take

in rowing toward the grasses that she eats.

Her track is graceless, like dragging

a packing-case places, and almost any slope

defeats her modest hopes. Even being practical,

she's often stuck up to the axle on her way

to something edible. With everything optimal,

she skirts the ditch which would convert

her shell into a serving dish. She lives

below luck-level, never imagining some lottery

will change her load of pottery to wings.

Her only levity is patience,

the sport of truly chastened things.

"Turtle" by Kay Ryan, from Flamingo Watching. © Copper Beech Press, 2006. Reprinted without permission but with gratitude. (buy now)

Earl - A Poem

Earl

In Sitka, because they are fond of them,

People have named the seals. Every seal

is named Earl because they are killed one

after another by the orca, the killer

whale; seal bodies tossed left and right

into the air. "At least he didn't get

Earl," someone says. And sure enough,

after a time, that same friendly,

bewhiskered face bobs to the surface.

It's Earl again. Well, how else are you

to live except by denial, by some

palatable fiction, some little song to

sing while the inevitable, the black and

white blindsiding fact, comes hurtling

toward you out of the deep?

"Earl" by Louis Jenkins, from North of the Cities. © Will o' the Wisp Books, 2007. (buy now)