Poetry by Patricia Wallesverd
She wanted to be a bird—
mouth a beak,
arms unfolding into wings,
legs—spindles,
feet—tiny claws.
I asked what kind—
wren, sparrow, finch—
but no—
a hawk,
patient on a pole
or a treetop by the lake,
eyes sharp
for any rustle
in the shoreline weeds,
then a sudden scoop.
What about a pileated woodpecker,
flaming-red crest,
chisel-like bill—
a forest pterodactyl,
twisting through trees
alert.
She said once on her bike,
one flew overhead.
She stopped
to watch it vanish
into a snag of oak and pine.
She rode home
flying down the road—
a bird on two wheels.
Patricia Wallesverd taught high school English in southeastern Wisconsin for nearly forty years. Now retired and living in northern Wisconsin, she writes poems inspired by people, memory, place, the natural world, and the small moments that connect them.
