From the archives — Solitude in a Park in Thurmont, Maryland — Alan Britt

Solitude in a Park in Thurmont, Maryland

A tiny bird, iridescent night blue, visits
a hole inside a large knot on the lower trunk
of a poplar. He returns to that hole; darts
inside for four or five seconds, then emerges
to streak away, each time in a new direction,
bouncing on currents of air at the speed of an
arrow. Upon returning, to feed his mate no doubt,
he lands upon the swollen knuckle of that poplar, tail
down, head straight up like a compass needle, gripping
the wrinkled gray bark of the tree that resembles an
elephant’s leg. He leaps inside, departs, then returns
again, again, and again. Eventually, I can bear it no
longer and, finally, upon one of his many returns he
finds me inside that smoky shadow on the swollen
knuckle of the poplar, soul wide open!

by Alan Britt

from Autumn Sky Poetry Number 5, March 2007

Photo by Christine Klocek-Lim