...
I have such respect
For this robin
Red breast: how whole he
Holds himself, unified
And serene.
He sensed me as I
Walked up the path,
But it was no more my
House, my garden,
Than his.
Sometimes I wonder how
He can hold himself so still,
How he can be so sure
Of the ways of things,
And how the wind, and the clear sky, and
The heat on his wings are all that
Matter. And so I watch him: the poise
That is his, his surety of purpose,
His elegant disregard of misfortunes that
Harangue me every so often, and I think, then, that
This, this is respect;
And this is how I hope to be,
Wise, in tune with the
Wind, the heartbeat and syncopations
Of life. It is the question of reaping the robin
Red breast’s guerdon that troubles me.
...
Bracha K. Sharp was published in the American Poetry Review, the Birmingham Arts Journal, ONE ART: a journal of poetry, Wild Roof Journal, Rogue Agent Journal, and the Thimble Literary Magazine, among others. She placed first in the national Hackney Literary Awards and was a finalist in the New Millennium Writings Poetry Awards. She received a 2019 Moonbeam Children’s Book Awards Silver Medal for her debut picture book. As her writing notebooks seem to end up finding their way into different rooms, she is always finding both old pieces to revisit and new inspirations to work with. She is a current reader for the Baltimore Review. www.brachaksharp.com