AT THE SPRING
Before she could drink from the garden hose
a cardinal landed on her wrist
and plunged its beak into the clear bubbling.
She froze in scarlet presence
but managed to gentle the nozzle’s flow.
Never so close to a wild thing,
she was soaked but held rock-still
as the redbird clung to her wrist
tilting its head up and down
as it drank, so close she could see
its tiny tongue. There was a song—
whether in her stunned mind
or from a distant bird, she could not tell.
For a moment nothing died and the winds
lost their ways. The hose chirred
softly like a night-thing’s call
and she heard the redbird lisping
as it dipped again and again into the spring.
—from Rattle #27, Summer 2007
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David T. Manning: “I’m fascinated by birds for their beautiful alien lives and intelligence, so different from ours. Once, in Wrightwood, California, a green-tailed towhee landed on the toe of my shoe to check me out. Later, a nuthatch hopped to within my hand’s reach and virtually commanded me to leave his feeder alone. The world is stranger than my wildest imaginings. I fully expect a cardinal to land on my wrist and drink from a hose someday.”
