Bird, Bee

Remember the yellow house that stood
for years, empty, used for nothing
but secrets?

A house built to last
until the end of days, or rot
in place?

I went there.

Following wing-sounds, I found a magpie
trapped
in a fly-blown attic.

In the bird’s eye, nothing
but light. In its beak, the body
of a bee.

Through a wheel window I saw
leaves drop from a heavy sky while distantly
a horseman canted.

So, I asked, what kind of signs are these?

And waited, with bird
for the yellow house not to reply.

- Jude Marr

Jude Marr’s poetry has appeared in many digital and print publications, including Panoply and Cherry Tree. She is a PhD student at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette, and also poetry editor for the online journal r.kv.ry. Her chapbook, Breakfast for the Birds, is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press in 2017. More on Jude’s work at www.judemarr.com