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THE GREAT BIRD
By David Eide
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It is silent now
And still
I am nearly dreaming
thinking of yesterday
ending with the voice
of a woman,
shy in the performance
of a bird;
The Great Bird that
flew from our heads
and rescued islanders
who convinced themselves
that they lived in paradise.
Yesterday came,
the stock quote,
the moving traffic,
the barking dogs;
a call went down
to the cave of childhood
where I smoked and cooked
over a smoldering fire;
the dog was chasing me,
I was dreaming, dreaming
that is was 1968 and
no one died; Jack Kennedy
was in the final days, the
people were happy, in the mood
for celebration and poetry.
And when the convention came
Kennedy envisioned a prosperous
70's; and in 1972 the
commentators complained that
"nothing is happening."
When I woke she was gone
The Great Bird had taken her
to a place where she was no friend;
where she hated poetry
and wanted, "warriors," and says,
now, that she will breed
warriors
that she saw in a TV show.
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