New Moon hangs in Summer sky With clear voice, a bird Sings to the Moon, not mocking.
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I am drawn to the kitchen window by the blue-jay’s cry. The neighbor’s marmalade cat sits on the fence, Under the orange tree. He slinks along the rail, towards the fence-post, Where a blue jay sits, still as stone. Cat pounces; his paws close on empty air. Blue Jay circles; in the orange tree Another bird calls. Cat turns, slinks back towards the tree. First Bird lands, back on his perch, Calls to Cat. Cat turns, Four paces, then Tree Bird calls. Cat turns again. Three paces. First Bird calls. Turn again. Call and response; Their mocking cries say “A grand game this, we Can keep it up all day. You?” I rap on the window. Cat disappears. I open my door next morning. A tiny ball of blue down Perched on pterodactyl legs Looks up at me from bead black eyes. A chick, flown too soon from the nest. I stoop to lift it back to the safety of the tree. With a cry, two blue winged avengers Swoop down, land, one each side the chick. Together, they hop to the wood pile Under the orange tree, Relic of a long-forgotten task. They climb the pile, hop by hop, Plank by plank, until The chick, feeling the air beneath its wings, Flies up to the lowest branch, Clings with giant feet, Then, half hopping, half flying, Disappears Into the welcoming dark of the canopy. The parent birds take up their posts, One on the fence, one in the tree, And wait. Not playing, guarding.
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Come in! I knew you’d be here this night.
My, how cold your hands are – like blocks of ice!
Let’s close the door, keep the wind out.
The others are already here.
We’ve kept a place for you, here, by the fire.
Sit down, you’ll soon be dry.
Hear how the wind blows around the house,
Rattling the windows.
Good thing we’re inside, safe and dry.
I pity those who’s loved ones are out at sea tonight.
Still cold? I’ll put another log on the fire.
Let me tell you what’s been happening
Since you’ve been gone.
The harvest was good.
No-one will go hungry this winter.
The rain held off till the corn was brought in –
Blue skies all the way.
Remember how blue the sky was that day?
Not a cloud in the sky.
And the sea as still as a mill-pond.
The mill-race nearly ran dry, the rain held off so long.
Then it started to rain, and didn’t stop.
The river overflowed its banks.
No-one could have seen the storm coming,
It came out of nowhere.
Then the mist.
We saw you disappear
Into the rain and fog.
We found the others in the morning -
The sea brought them home to us.
We looked for you all day,
Called and called, in case you were asleep somewhere.
We held a wake for you.
People came from all over.
Many a toast was drunk to your memory.
Grandmother McCready got a little tipsy,
Climbed onto the old oak table, hitched up her skirts,
and danced a jig.
You should’ve been here. You’d’ve died laughing.
Did you hear us calling you,
Where you lay, under the waves?(Here is a link to an article about the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain.)