Mockingbirds

“Mockingbirds don’t do one thing but make music for us to enjoy.”

--Harper Lee

The music from the radio
Fills the room with soft sound.
My arms around your waist
Draw you near
As you stroke smoothly my hair.

We are enthusiasts yet strangers of intimacy.
It is amazing how one embrace
Can carry us through the day;
How the warmth of bodies
Lays to rest a cold season.

There is a picture in my head
Of a little, lonely girl
Who wandered schoolyards by herself
And rode high on boundless swings
To sing and soar with mockingbirds.

And now you sing to me
In the light voice that I love:
“Alberta, I’ll bring you more gold
Than your apron can hold.”
My voice rises in glad harmony.


--Boris Victor Stecko