The Politeness of Birds

The Politeness of Birds

I am 541
miles from the coast,

but tall grass
     ripples like waves,
          and a stout wind makes
               seashells of my ears—
                    they roar an ocean of sound.

You say we’re landlocked,
               but the birds, I think,
                    would disagree and politely
                                   tip a wing to you
                        before sailing away
                 on a swell of heat. 

And anyway, if we are
locked into anything,
        
             how is it
                           that I’m feeling
                                                   everything
                                                                   at once? 

These birds politely opted not to poop on my head, which I appreciated.

The Prompt

When the humidity is low (a rare occurrence in Kentucky), and the temperature is mild, and the smell of flowers carries on the breeze, I find myself transported to my grandmother’s garden in Palo Alto. When the air is crisp and cold and the sky is full of stars, I’m suddenly camping in the high desert of southern Utah. And when the wind roars in my ears and grass moves up and down like waves, then—as you saw in this poem—I feel swept to the coast.

Our senses can be a portal to places and times other than the one we are physically in. Stepping on acorns and hearing them crunch against the pavement lands me in suburban Maryland, where I grew up. The taste of Wonder bread parks me in the pew of a Mormon church.

Are there times and places to which you find yourself repeatedly transported?

If you’d like a prompt to play around with today, then consider the sensory input that suddenly lifts you from your actual physical location and sets you down somewhere else in space or time. If you experience flashbacks related to trauma, then this might feel like a fraught or weighty question. I want to affirm that all poems, whether light or dark or a jumble of the two, are welcome here (as long as they don’t promote or perpetuate injustice or cruelty, of course). And off-prompt poems are also very welcome. So please create and share (or don’t) in whatever way feels most nourishing to you.

If this prompt is feeling like one you’d like to engage with, here are a few questions to consider. Is there a certain smell that transports you to your childhood home? A sound that makes you remember a friend you haven’t seen in years? A particular sort of weather that makes you feel like you’re at your favorite vacation destination? A food you can’t possibly eat without thinking of that person or that moment or that place?

How does it feel to be carried by your senses out of this moment and into another one? Is there a sensory path you especially like to follow? One you try to avoid?

The moments I spend reading your poems and comments are some of my favorite moments of my week. Thank you so much for being here, for holding space for me, and for giving so much of yourselves! I look forward to reading your poems, friends.

P.S. If you want to participate in the the telephone game I described in my last post and haven’t already told me, please let me know ASAP. I’ll be reaching out to participants via email or DM in the next few days.

P.P.S. 100 Poems has officially reached and tipped beyond 100 subscribers! I am so grateful for each and every one of you.