Poems by Antoni Ooto

 

The Art of Bird Feeding

 

Furtively back and forth, the finches look

then continue selecting, or sit content

watching me—watching them.

 

So,

I take my time approaching, and wait.

 

The feeder may be down a bit,

empty, or on some days,

missing.

 

This is the art of bird feeding

(I’m learning)

 

knowing when to come,

when to go,

when to rest and watch.

 

 

Shake My Words

 

I have less light in me

and many questions.

 

“Why” is the tallest.

 

From a tenuous but fateful place—

I write.

 

This blue orb so familiar, my anchor,

and a hundred million stars above.

 

When all is done, I wonder

who will shake my words?

 

 

 

Breathe

 

One…

two…

three…

four…

 

practicing a place of nothing

is harder the older I get

 

the innocent haunts of memory

green lawns after a rain

the aroma of summer

 

I’m never alone in my head

even crowded at times

hosting

 

voices and places of a past

that keep interrupting

 

as I try to settle,

the mantra again begins.

 

One…

Antoni Ooto is a poet, flash fiction writer, well-known for his abstract expressionist art. He has been published in many journals and anthologies. He lives and works in upstate New York.

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