How to Photograph an Oriental White-eye
Quiet.
This is when I make
a late entry, shushing things,
hanging upside down
from clusters of firebush
red, nectar-mongering,
singing-mocking,
zooming between leaves, carrying this
object around my neck.
Quiet.
This is when I alter
shape. Turn minute
to monitor green. Check
to see eye to eye, the leaf
with an eye. Aloof,
mint-pinned, impatient
millisecond of chirp
and we are one.
Quiet.
This is when I crawl
between shades of branches.
The shudders say we are here,
cross-haired and calm, aiming
at the distinct tremolo, climbing,
chanting silence, slylyslowly.
The staring, all-seeing, white-rimmed eye
waits for my finger and
we are tricked
by light:
alert, in concert
and full of wit. Quiet.
Quiet.
This is when I make
a late entry, shushing things,
hanging upside down
from clusters of firebush
red, nectar-mongering,
singing-mocking,
zooming between leaves, carrying this
object around my neck.
Quiet.
This is when I alter
shape. Turn minute
to monitor green. Check
to see eye to eye, the leaf
with an eye. Aloof,
mint-pinned, impatient
millisecond of chirp
and we are one.
Quiet.
This is when I crawl
between shades of branches.
The shudders say we are here,
cross-haired and calm, aiming
at the distinct tremolo, climbing,
chanting silence, slylyslowly.
The staring, all-seeing, white-rimmed eye
waits for my finger and
we are tricked
by light:
alert, in concert
and full of wit. Quiet.
