Where Have They Gone

I’ll start here.
Where grass hugs the dew,
and chipmunks scurry across the prairie,
under the vision of a hawk
who sharpens his talons on ancient redwoods.

I’ll mix a cup of cold instant coffee
and pick out the grounds with dirty fingers
before I swing my pack on my shoulder
and dial in my stride.

Against rain, cold, wind, and breathlessness.
Against the bobcat who treads
dead silent on dry sticks and leaves.
Against the owl’s night-time necromancy.

Mother, are you there?
I’ve begun to forget her voice and all
voices of the world.
I mistake my own for the echo of crows in the valley,
black as spires on gothic cathedrals.
I often wonder if birds pass on tales to their young,
and I wonder how they end.

Igor Kojadinovic is a Serbian poet and philosophy student. Born in Ljubljana, Slovenia, he was relocated to the United States, where he has worked as a firefighter and paramedic for the last five years. He currently attends The University of Central Florida and is pursuing his B.A. in philosophy.