Glen A. Mazis

Becoming Their Silhouette

I thought the idea was mine
until the yellow finch
dropped onto the apple
tree branch swiveling its head,
aimed its arrow of vision black-eyed
entering my hazel gaze.

I thought the fear was mine
hands icy despite rays of sun
when screeching, the squirrel
frenzied through mazes of branches
seeing the red-tailed hawk circling
the red moon returning.

I thought the care was mine
until hushed slow slipping
through the woods fawns flitted
green mossy ground found
silky doe waiting
nestling them to belly.

I thought the peace was mine
long reward of seeking, ceasing
but the cumulus cloud sliding
cobalt neighborhood open air
weightless knowingly borrowed
light from surrounding sky.

I can see this me is not mine
found scattered in leaves,
acorns, seed for birds, rising air,
nestled among furbearers,
carried by frenetic nesters
settling back into this iris.

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Glen A. Mazis taught philosophy for decades at Penn State Harrisburg, retiring in 2020. He has published 100 plus poems in literary journals, including Rosebud, The North American Review, Sou’wester, Spoon River Poetry Review, Willow Review, Atlanta Review, Reed Magazine, and Asheville Poetry Review, and the collection, The River Bends in Time (Anaphora Literary Press, 2012), a chapbook, The Body Is a Dancing Star (Orchard Street Press, 2020), and Bodies of Space and Time (Kelsay Books, 2022). He has published five philosophy books. He is the 2019 winner of the Malovrh-Fenlon Poetry Prize (Orchard Street national contest). 

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