Bobby Byrd - BIRDS for Jim

BIRDS

Winter Solstice 2014

El Paso, Texas

—for Jim Koller

Couldn’t sleep. Reading Gary Snyder.

“Essential nature is not female or male.”

So surprising, so obvious, so revolutionary.

Woman and man. Good and evil.

Like golden aspen leaves fluttering to the earth.

It’s been years since I lived in the mountains.

I woke up at 4:30 and waited until

The night skies began to turn

Pinks and blues. A grey cloud

Stretched across the Rio Grande to Juárez.

We moved to this house almost 40 years ago.

We have grown old inside these walls.

Blood pressure 133/86. I am 72 years old.

My friend Jim Koller died last week.

Room 124 of the Motel 6, Joplin, MO.

A stroke scrambled his brain into darkness.

A few days later the rest of his body

Followed to the other side.

A road runner stared at Cirrelda

Through her Albuquerque window

That same morning. The bird

Preened its beautiful feathers.

“Jim Koller,” Cirrelda said.

Her body warm under the covers next to J.B.

She makes those connections.

A very human gift.

We have a mockingbird always

Screaming at me to open the gate.

“Nothing to it. Just let go.” Jim

Killed an elk on San Antonio Mountain,

The horses snorting and whinnying

At the crack of his rifle. It pierced

The peace that passes all understanding.

That morning likewise was years ago. Was ice cold.

Death steam rose fresh from the elk cavern

As Jim, kneeling like a priest,

Sliced into the dark center of life,

The bloody knife razor sharp,

Hands trembling in the terrible cold.

“CAW, CAW, CAW,” the crows screamed.

CAW, CAW, CAW, CAW

Beauty at the beginning

Man and woman. Good and evil.

Aspen leaves rotting into the cold earth.

Beauty at the end

No beginning. No end.

Beauty all around

That day and for weeks to come

Jim, his lover, his friends feasted on elk meat.

“Delicious, “he said.

Goodbye, Jim. Goodbye.

We’ll keep it real as long as we can.