So — for weeks we watched baby robins popping up their heads,
opening their beaks to mama’s feedings of moths
other winged things and bugs. Yesterday
one baby on wobbly legs, stood up, and
inched out onto the flat of the downspout
looking down, fluttering wings, winged things already
in her bloodstream, with knowledge of flight, air currents,
earth maps; mama’s perching in the nearby maple,
chirping; then baby backed back into the nest.
So — I went to my workshop to teach fledging students
how our feelings can take flight with words, even soar,
birthing emotions on our upsweeping heart’s breath.
Returning home — the nest is empty. I can only imagine
their first spread of wings, that downward headlong fall, gasp,
then grace of upswing, elation of flight. First kisses with
wind and sunfire: their song, breathing poems. My own as well.
Written to honor the fledgling robins nesting on our gutter’s downspout, and these fledgling artist/writers attending the Marie Walsh Share Art Foundation seminar at Colorado College: Samuel, Adam, Elizabeth, Oscar, Laurel, Lino, Sidnie, and Juan.
June 16, 2011 James Ciletti
Poet Laureate of the Pikes Peak Region