This is Poetry Moment on WPSU – a weekly program featuring the work of contemporary Pennsylvania poets. Your host is poet and author Marjorie Maddox, a 2023 Monson Arts Fellow, author of more than 20 books, and Professor Emerita of English and Creative Writing at the Lock Haven campus of Commonwealth University.
Welcome to Poetry Moment. I’m Marjorie Maddox
Who hasn't, at some point, yearned to be a bird?
In today's poem, "to be the bird," nicole v basta considers the storks of Poland, where, before moving to Pennsylvania, her ancestors lived, eventually working in the coal mines and garment factories of Wilkes-Barre.
nicole v basta (who does not use capital letters in her name) is a 2026 Academy of American Poets Laureate Fellow. Her poems have appeared in Ploughshares, Blackbird, Third Coast, North American Review, and elsewhere. Her second chapbook, "the next field over" (2022), was published by Tolsun Books.
nicole is also a community educator, arts events producer, and visual artist. Her work has been supported by grants and residencies, including Art Farm Nebraska, Monson Arts, and The Saltonstall Foundation. Currently, she is Poet Laureate of Tompkins County/Ithaca, New York.
I'm told that, in Poland, storks migrate large distances to winter in Africa. After that long absence, their return is met with great anticipation. According to one source, "the sight of a stork circling overhead or tending to its massive nest is more than just a glimpse of nature; it’s a symbol of rebirth, good fortune, and deep cultural connection."... [S]torks restoring their nests. . . is a potent symbol [both] of renewal" and warmer days ("Storks: Poland's Beloved Harbingers of Spring").
In her poem, "to be the bird," nicole v basta also welcomes this majestic bird, embracing its "kind of solitude" as a gift.
Here’s "to be the bird" by nicole v basta
to be the bird
on the roof, a stork nests and dreams of a past life
wading in the shallow water of another continent
beneath the roof, a woman goes on with her luck
kneels to the narrow altar in the home she made
of her body alone— suppose the silence after a quest
-ion begins a new day, the quiet bouncing off the brims
of hats— words like spar and spark, shoulder, the second
star, limp in the air like lazy ghosts and suppose
the answers arrive as the birds, not as the births
they've come to represent in the west, no, we're in the old
country now and it is a gift, that kind of solitude
the one when there is no echo of yourself who breathes
and what i am saying is— i may only want
to be the bird
Originally published in Colorado Review Volume 50, Number 1, Spring 2023
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Our theme music is by Eric Ian Farmer.
