Bosque del Apache

by Andrew Shattuck McBride

I broached driving south so Mom could see birds
at a rest stop along the Rio Grande flyway.
She was intrigued, but ultimately declined.
Deal breakers: hours each way in a car, dearth
of rest stops for her. Worse, me behind the wheel,
in control, the possibility of argument.

We wouldn’t have argued about the Iraq War.
Mom and I were against it. Even Aunt Bonnie
was bitterly opposed. Aunt Bonnie worried
I would be sent to Iraq. In 2003, I assured her
sailors with my specialty weren’t needed. 
She brought it up each time I called; I stopped calling.

Mom loved birds: birds of prey, cranes, crows.
I wonder if the idea of going grew till she had to go.
Mom made it without me. I received her postcard
of a lone Whooping crane with a swoop of Sandhill
cranes. On the other side, Your Aunt Bonnie passed
away. We sent flowers, added your name. Love, Mom—

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“After my parents divorced when I was six years old, I learned love for trees from Dad and love for birds from Mom. Dad and Mom each passed away many years ago; these poems are my way of continuing to talk with them.” —Andrew Shattuck McBride

Andrew Shattuck McBride is a Navy veteran. Based now in Washington State, he is co-editor of For Love of Orcas (Wandering Aengus, 2019). His work is forthcoming or appears in Rattle, Clockhouse, Crab Creek Review, Black Horse Review, Empty Mirror, Pensive: A Global Journal of Spirituality & the Arts, Evening Street Review, Pontoon Poetry, The Ravens Perch, and Months to Years.