Today’s poem is “Grackles” by Anya Krugovoy Silver from the collection Second Bloom. The book is available for purchase here.
Grackles by Anya Krugovoy Silver
Grackles aren’t granted a term as lilting
as murmuration, starlings’ mellifluous tides.
Grackles are simply grackles,
plain squawkers not lined with crimson,
or graced with the petite charm of the chickadee.
They’re commuters on the migratory subway.
Ordinary birds, thrift shop birds.
Even their name brings to mind swollen ankles.
My grandmother, stout and Russian,
was a grackle, not a swift or starling.
She walked everywhere with purpose, bickered,
ate bread and buttered cabbage for dinner.
I come from a lineage of grackles.
So it’s no wonder that the birds gather
in my front yard, noisy fliers, survivors,
hundreds of them wind-slapped
in their common, rapturous clouds.
Prompts:
1. Begin with “They’re commuters…” 2. Begin with “lilting…” 3. Draft a poem that includes a description of an animal that you see on a regular basis. 4. Draft a poem that explores ancestry.
5. Photo by Gabriel Espinoza via pexels.com. Use the image as a writing prompt.
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