The Changeling, by Melinda Giordano

I might have passed too close
To its nursery hidden in the trees
For I quickly felt the parent’s rebuke
A fierce pluck of hair
A painful scold above me
Intuitive and mindlessly brave

I faced my aggressor
Whose bronze eyes glittered with suspicion
Diminutive and vicious dominion
With anger lurking in its blood
Its DVD on the horizon
A flotilla of evolution

Then after some avian thought
It vanished with invisible decision
And like handwriting that had come to life
But with no pen for guidance
My hair arched and curled in its grip
Destined for a bed built out of shadow and green

And throughout the day my head throbbed
Victim to such tiny fury
But at night though my windows were closed
I heard soft flutters
The gentle murmurings of flight
And the soft crush of feathers across my cheek

Melinda Giordano is a native of Los Angeles, California.  Her written pieces have appeared in the Lake Effect MagazineScheherazade’s BequestWhisperingsCirca Magazine and Vine Leaves Literary Journal among others. She was also a regular poetry contributor to with her own column, ‘I Wandered and Listened’ and was nominated for the 2017 Pushcart Prize. She writes flash fiction and poetry that speculates on the possibility of remarkable things – the secret lives of the natural world.  Melinda is interested in history and anything to do with Aubrey Beardsley, her favorite artist.

Posted on December 21, 2016, in Issue 19: Speculative Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

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