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Redbird Love

We watched her grow up.

She was the urgent chirper,

Fledgling flier.

And when spring rolled

Out its green

She’d grown

Into the most noticeable

Bird-girl.

Long-legged and just

The right amount of blush

Tipping her wings, crest

And tail, and

She knew it

In the bird parade.

We watched her strut.

She owned her stuff.

The males perked their armor, greased their wings,

And flew sky-loop missions

To show off

For her.

In the end

There was only one.

Isn’t that how it is for all of us?

There’s that one you circle back to — for home.

This morning

The young couple scavenges seeds

On the patio.

She is thickening with eggs.

Their minds are busy with sticks the perfect size, tufts of fluff

Like dandelion, and other pieces of soft.

He steps aside for her, so she can eat.

Then we watch him fill his beak

Walk tenderly to her and kiss her with seed.

The sacred world lifts up its head

To notice — 

We are double-, triple-blessed.

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Joy Harjo

Joy Harjo (/ˈhɑːrdʒoʊ/ HAR-joh; born May 9, 1951) is an American poet, musician, playwright, and author. She is the incumbent United States Poet…
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