Natural Selection by Helga Kidder
To be a branch that lifts and grows
toward the sky as waxy-white blooms
open to lemony scents.
To be striped roots of crepe myrtle
snaking toward the stone terrace,
furred with moss, like words
years have forgotten.
To be bleeding hearts blossoming
with yellow stamen next to lilies
of the valley, breathing in fragrance,
lingering in the love of bells.
To laugh like a bell, clear and sweet,
or be the branch that bends in the rain,
soaks in songs of wings,
the gentle brush of a feather.
Like love that quietly slides between
sticks and stones and disappears
in the maze of laurel and sourwood.
Survival of the fittest, the blood's surge
seeking otherness. Words that retreat
into a glass globe someone will shake.
Helga Kidder lives in the Tennessee hills with her husband. She has four poetry collections, Wild Plums, Luckier than the Stars, Blackberry Winter, and Loving the Dead which won the 2020 Blue Light Press Book Award.