Drowsy from inhaling the sharp September sun,
I nearly forget what is happening beyond my porch—
even as it persists like the hum of a low flying plane circling
over and over. Or the abundance of insects teasing the air.
Last night, I mistook a human call for an owl’s.
Confused the international space station for a shooting star.
Recently I watched a mother bear and her cubs
pilfer a trash can before catching my scent, scurrying off.
My sister says It is hard work, being human.
But I think humans are hard work for the bears
and the migrating birds dodging our empty office towers.
When a flag-flying pickup rumbles past,
I realize I’ve been holding my breath, again.
–
Heidi Seaborn is Executive Editor of The Adroit Journal and winner of The Missouri Review Editors Prize in Poetry. She’s authored three award-winning books/chapbooks of poetry. Heidi holds an MFA from New York University.
