Sonnet for the Wood Ducks

1. The wood ducks aren’t splitting the stream today.
   Did I dream the ornate etching they wear
   on their feathered backs?
2. It is winter, says the stream.
3. A scream can be a weather event.
4. Once I saw a mountain bluebird without
   knowing what I saw. Shock of blue. Piece of
   the sky roosting in a long-needled pine.
5. Some days, when I pass the pine, I gather,
   I coil, I stitch in my mind the baskets
   I desire.
6. My lexicon is a
   trapdoor.
7. This place is a bardo.
8. I wish
   to stay, but I have no nest, no basket.
9. The stream is too shallow to allow a
   wish or passage.
10. Green stare. Tule plumed. I’ll
    wait on this bank for their return.

About the Poem

I wrote this sonnet at the UC Davis Arboretum — a green space on campus that I walk through daily. The wood ducks always strike me as extraordinary creatures, and every time I see them I’m amazed. I wrote this sonnet on a day they returned in the Spring.

About the Poet

Iris Jamahl Dunkle is a poet, biographer, and scholar whose work challenges the male-centric narratives of the American West’s recorded history and amplifies the often-overlooked voices of women. Her new book, Riding Like the Wind: The Life of Sanora Babb (University of California Press, 2024), is a USA Today bestseller, receiving national acclaim for its poignant exploration of Babb’s life and her fraught relationship with the literary history of the Dust Bowl. Dunkle earned her MFA in poetry from New York University and her PhD in American Literature from Case Western Reserve University. Her previous books include the biography Charmian Kittredge London: Trailblazer, Author, Adventurer (University of Oklahoma Press, 2020) and four poetry collections, including her latest, West : Fire : Archive, published by The Center for Literary Publishing. Dunkle curates Finding Lost Voices, a weekly blog dedicated to resurrecting the voices of women who have been marginalized or forgotten.