Chase Twichell

The Park from Above
June 9, 2012 Twichell Chase

The Park From Above


What scared them? Scores of wild green parrots

fly up shrieking out of the palms,

circle and return, settling their now-invisible wings.

A man has crawled out of the mangroves,

zipping his fly. It’s the spot where the dogs

always stop overlong, then look at me as if to say,

Explain this, please. It’s the guy who sleeps

on a nearby bench and loiters by the boat launch.

The dogs sniff out a roll of toilet paper in a plastic bag,

hidden behind leaves with his backpack and tarp.

The only other witnesses are two white ibises

nervous on the concrete seawall, swiveling

their slender necks, which look too thin

to swallow anything. They fly when we come near,

up to join the ruckus of small green angels

hidden in the palms or spiraling up into the realm

just above the human one, from which they can see

the swings and slide, picnic tables, public restrooms,

drinking fountains, birthday streamers snagged in a tree,

the glass and plastic mysteries delivered by the tide.

Chase Twichell’s  new book, Things as  It Is, is  forthcoming  from Copper Canyon in fall 2018. She lives in upstate NY and teaches in the Program for Writers at Warren Wilson College.