Today I work at a small desk instead of in a large studio and make small works, combining my visual art with a flair for poetry, resulting in Poems in a Box, one-of-a-kind artworks that fit in the palm of a hand, each containing a poem. All are varnished gouache on wood.
My Everglades Is Bleeding
There were more birds in the sky than anyone could count—
Herons–tricolors, little blues, great blues, green backs, black-crowns
And anhingas, cormorants, bitterns, pelicans. I am out of breath…
My Everglades is crying.
There were high-flying bald eagles and wood storks and ospreys.
The sky ran pink from the open wings of roseate spoonbills and before them flamingos, now gone forever.
My Everglades is bleeding.
We got our hunger for houses with their very own canals and docks and boats
And developed our enormous sweet tooth
And choked the Great Slough until the tears and the blood ran so thin.
My Everglades is dying.