From an Apple Tree

inspired by an evening walk

Our town had a flood;
the fields are strewn with garbage
that flowed down the mountain
with the sand and mud;
today I walked through acres
of diapers, bottles, bags, broken shoes,
paper, dead dogs, engine parts,
pumice, and plastic 
of every size, shape, and form. 
There is an apple tree too in that field,
and this evening, from its top branch
a bluebird flashed 
its cerulean and mandarin
beckoning me from my childhood;
home and dreams 3000 miles away,
the same Siala, the same songs,
the same hopes I carried across 
a continent and more than
a few lifetimes. And I did not know
if I should be furious 
about the garbage, or joyful
to live in a world where bluebirds
can still greet us at sunset.

Author's Note

"Sialia" is the scientific genus name for the bluebird. This poem was translated from my original in Spanish. Photo is my own.

Reviews

[Kelly Scheppers]

...be joyful to live in a world where bluebirds can still greet us at sunset. It was the goodness that you were intended to find among the travesty of what was lost.