Come, take my hand and we will walk
through silver night luminous with light
from moon and city
There a shadowy nighthawk
shivers by and veers
away from sight.
We will talk of common things,
of tasks and children, as we have
these thirty years and more.
Inca doves moan themselves to sleep
in citrus soaked air;
a widow scurries back against the wall;
her shimmering web reflects
an ominous glow.
When love first touched our hearts,
it touched our tongues;
days passing in a clutter of words.
Now, mundane conversation conveys
a silent language, ours alone,
explains a touch, a glance, a smile
and we acknowledge with this secret speech
the fused flesh and mind
we have become.
A rabbit flushes white against the prickly pear.
Overhead, high on that wooden pole,
see, it is the outline of an owl.
Judith has been a Master Gardner and a volunteer at the Desert Botanical Garden in Phoenix for twenty years. She loves the desert and often writes about it in her poetry. She has degrees from BYU, Boston University and a Creative Writing certificate from Phoenix Community College. She has had poems published in Irreantum, Dialogue, Segullah, and Exponent II.Â Last March she participated in a reading tour of MormonÂ womenÂ writers organized by Dr. Holly Welker and Dr. Joanna Brooks. She also enjoys playing duets with the birds in the backyard on her Native American flute.Â Judith is also the poetry editor for Exponent II.Â You can reach the online forum for Exponent II here.
The photo accompanying Judith’s poem is titled “Nighthawk 2” and was taken by Margarethe Brummermann, who granted permission for its use.Â Margarethe isÂ a biologist at the University of Arizona in Tucson and a watercolor artist.