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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Gabrielle Calvocoressi
Gabrielle Calvocoressi
Calvocoressi's awards and honors include a Stegner Fellowship, a Jones Lectureship at Stanford University and a Rona Jaffe Women Writers' Award...
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FURTHER READING
Poems about Birds
Tender Buttons [Chicken]
by Gertrude Stein
Littlefoot, 19, [This is the bird hour]
by Charles Wright
The Scarlet Ibis, Section VII
by Susan Hahn
A Bird came down the Walk (328)
by Emily Dickinson
A Bird in Hand
by Amber Flora Thomas
A Peacock in Spring
by Joyelle McSweeney
Albatross in Co. Antrim
by Robin Robertson
Birdcall
by Alicia Suskin Ostriker
Birding at the Dairy
by Sidney Wade
Birds Again
by Jim Harrison
Birds Appearing In A Dream
by Michael Collier
Black bird, red wing
by Nickole Brown
Darwin's Finches
by Deborah Digges
Dispatches from Devereux Slough
by Mark Jarman
Dove, Interrupted
by Lucie Brock-Broido
Evening Hawk
by Robert Penn Warren
Ground Birds in Open Country
by Stanley Plumly
Gulls
by William Carlos Williams
Hardware Sparrows
by R. T. Smith
Home to Roost
by Kay Ryan
Hope is the thing with feathers (254)
by Emily Dickinson
Hummingbird
by Elaine Terranova
I am Like a Desert Owl, an Owl Among the Ruins
by Noelle Kocot
If the Owl Calls Again
by John Haines
In Flight
by Jennifer K. Sweeney
In the Memphis Airport
by Timothy Steele
Interlude
by Edith Sitwell
Last Night I Dreamed of Chickens
by Jack Prelutsky
Leda and the Swan
by W. B. Yeats
Leda, After the Swan
by Carl Phillips
Let Birds
by Linda Gregg
My Mother Would Be a Falconress
by Robert Duncan
Ode to a Nightingale
by John Keats
Paper Swallow
by Stanley Moss
Poet as Immortal Bird
by Ron Padgett
Red-Legged Kittiwake
by Emily Wilson
Revision in My Wife's Powder Room
by Lauren Berry
Small Study
by Emily Wilson
Song of the Owl
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Sympathy
by Paul Laurence Dunbar
The Darkling Thrush
by Thomas Hardy
The Eagle
by Lord Alfred Tennyson
The Heron
by Linda Hogan
The Life So Short...
by Eamon Grennan
The Nightingale
by Sir Philip Sidney
The Parakeets
by Alberto Blanco
The Raven
by Edgar Allan Poe, read by Anne Waldman
The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The Sparrow
by Gerald Stern
The Starlings
by Jesper Svenbro
The Windhover
by Gerard Manley Hopkins
The Yellow Bittern (An Bunnan Bui)
by Cathal Bui Mac Giolla Gunna, read by James Wright
Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird
by Wallace Stevens
Three Moves
by John Logan
Tigers
by Melissa Ginsburg
To a Skylark
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
To a Waterfowl
by William Cullen Bryant
White Stork
by Michael Waters
Wild Swans
by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Poems about Landscapes
from In This World of 12 Months
by Marcella Durand
A lane of Yellow led the eye (1650)
by Emily Dickinson
A Small Hot Town
by Collier Nogues
A Story
by Philip Levine
At the Fishhouses
by Elizabeth Bishop
Balance
by Adam Zagajewski
Coastal Plain
by Kathryn Stripling Byer
For-The-Spirits-Who-Have-Rounded-The-Bend IIVAQSAAT
by dg nanouk okpik
from Crossing State Lines [Shirtsleeved afternoons]
by Rita Dove
Hovering at a Low Altitude
by Dahlia Ravikovitch
Imaginary June
by C. D. Wright
Inland
by Chase Twichell
Lake Havasu
by Dorianne Laux
Landscape With The Fall of Icarus
by William Carlos Williams
One Day
by Joseph Millar
Pied Beauty
by Gerard Manley Hopkins
Prairie Spring
by Willa Cather
The Pasture
by Robert Frost
The Philosopher in Florida
by C. Dale Young
This Lime Tree Bower My Prison
by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Useless Landscape
by D. A. Powell
Where I Live
by Maxine Kumin
Winter Morning
by William Jay Smith
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Rocket Fantastic [excerpt]

 
by Gabrielle Calvocoressi

He's really beautiful. When he's standing in the trees like that and thinks nobody sees him. He's like a stag. Which sounds silly but he is. The way the light shines on him. The way it bounces off his hair like spray from the sprinkler. And he doesn't know it right then. Because he's looking somewhere else. Maybe up at a bird. I was standing a few feet away and turned back because I heard him whistling when he thought I wasn't listening. He wasn't thinking of me. He was looking at a bird who was sitting in the tree and looking back at him. If his shirt was off he'd have been dappled golden in the sun coming through the leaves. He didn't notice me watching him without his shirt on. He was standing in the forest and the sun was coming through the trees and covering him so he glowed. I knew he'd be warm if I walked up and touched him. And probably not mad. He's like something in a movie or like a book we'd read in summer by the pool. He didn't see me looking because he was so peaceful staring at the bird.
About this poem:

"This poem is from a long form project/book I'm working on called Rocket Fantastic. The poem also has a lot to do with my own visual/neurological difference called nystagmus and the sense that what I am seeing might not really be there or might be becoming something closer to real as I look at it. I'm interested in the way the body and the landscape (particularly the light) become indistinguishable from each other at points in the poem."

Gabrielle Calvocoressi






Copyright 2013 by Gabrielle Calvocoressi. Used with permission of the author. This poem appeared in Poem-A-Day on April 10, 2013. Browse the Poem-A-Day archive.
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