|Memory Hanging in the Cedar
During WWII. Riverside Drive, Jacksonville, Florida.
I felt a little chick’s beak, pip-
pip-pip within its moist warm shell,
cupped in my hand, as cracks went zip
and zap, and cast a magic spell
beneath my flashlight. Put it back
before its Momma raises hell,
I thought. There! Nest of gunnysack
deep in the dark, beneath the floor
of our back porch, safe from attack . . . .
Soon she was strutting with a corps
of little hatchlings. Six would trail
her, scratching, peeping to her score.
In time, just one turned out a male,
grew its majestic comb, blue-red . . . .
The yard-man caught it by the tail.
He hung it feet-up, wings out-spread
in our old cedar tree — and slit
its throat — where it just bled and bled.
If you have any comments on this poem Leland Jamieson would
be pleased to hear