Like bird, like human
On the twilight settled fence
the robin calls for her baby, Oriok, oriok,
I mimic her baby, Chir-r-chi, chir-r-chi
She glances at me on the back porch
then bursts in angry tone, Godoriko-goorooki.
I say again, Chir-r-chi, chir-r-chi.
Like a mad dame, she kicks her feet and
took a flight toward the dark trees, calling, Oriok–
I laugh then wince; something pricks in my heart;
her memory is still fresh; the owl that took her
first brood. Her angry voice; the mother’s,
whose son hasn’t come home after school till ten;
her head, full of gun-fire and bloody image of him.
She stares out the window at the darkened street,
her head pounds; the big wave crushes
against the wall of the cliff, over and over.
Past ten, her son slips in through the door,
unscathed, but whiff of pot smell;
the mad waves subside in her heart,
still, fire in her eyes.
Just a little joint with my friend is all,
You are grounded, she yells.
In the dark trees, the robin and her baby squabble;
Oriok, oriok; Chir-r-chi, chir-r-chi.
I text my son; Goodnight, goodnight, you all.
©Byung A. Fallgren