this weeks prompt for one deep breath poetry is "feathered friends." i can't seem to think of a single good memory i have with birds. i always wanted to be like cinderella or snow white and be so sweet that animals actually flew right up and landed on my fingers, and then proceeded to sew for me. but alas, i'm a spazz.

we have 3 nests of birds hiding in the nooks and crannies of our house, plus more in the trees. these birds don't bother me, although i do freak out when they suddenly fly out behind the bricks. and every other encounter i can think of with birds has been less than pleasant.

like the day when i was about 10 i was walking in the park, minding my own business, when i looked up momentarily to gaze at the clouds. PLOP! bird poop straight in the eye. i mean really, could they be any ruder?

or how about when i was around 13 my friend had a cockatail that everyone would get out of his cage and play with. he sang to everyone else. but when i finally got the courage up to carefully take him... he simultaneously bit me, pooped, and then flew away. and everyone was angry with me because they couldn't get him back in his cage. stupid bird.

so i *believe* that was my last encounter with birds until 2 weeks ago. we're sitting at a gas station with utah's state bird... the seagull... swooping around us:

seagulls jump to catch
the chips flying in the air
to my husband's glee

i sit petrified
as he opens my window,
i scream as they swoop

their beady red eyes
focus not on the chip but on
my terrified eyes

i scream and cry out
"shut the window please! i'm scared!"
as the tears flow out

my *mean* husband laughs
rolls down the window once more
and throws the last chip

i can look at it now and realize that i was overreacting, but MAN i was so scared and mad. with each chip he threw they would fly closer and closer to MY window. he was throwing them for the kids to be able to see the birds. but they were oblivious to anything but my screaming. plus i felt like we were wasting chips. shouldn't these birds be eating crickets (really, read the whole article) instead of cheetos? so it didn't exactly work out for anyone. poop.

fruit on my counters,
soup bubbling in the crock pot,
jello dances, chilled.

today's a good day,
with plenty of laughter and
jubilant babies.

my house is messy,
but my mind is clear for the
first time in weeks.

behind me now are
the shadows of depression;
light envelops me

more shadow and light play here

one deep breath poetry: sleeping

the stillness of morn
sunlight peeking through drawn blinds
hours for the soul