Visions of Deedle

There it is,

a flash in the corner of the eye —

Look full on, nothing, but a laugh.

Still, there is something,

a glimpse of her plaid house dress,

her nose pressed up against the lilac.

A rag tied around her pink curlers,

one strand floats free.

 

The skeptic,

a shake of the head, a smile unnerved.

Another day, another flicker,

a brush of tail, spirals

around a fire-charred oak,

but the dogs don’t even look

or sniff the air.

 

A sparkle next to the sun,

confronted, fades like a vapor trail when

even so, wings rustle and tickle the ear.

No feathers, no call, no streak across the sky.

 

Burst through the door, distracted

there she is again, disappearing,

while the bird feeder swings,

newly full of seed.

 

6 thoughts on “Visions of Deedle”

  1. Such a lovely poem, Carrie. I remember Deedle from your family gatherings in Sausilito. What a life she had! I recently wrote about my beloved grandmother who also, like Deedle, lived well into her 90’s. I’ll email you my story if you wish. Just need your email.

    Liked by 1 person

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