my Lady of Spring Rolls espies a pheasant under our feeder
Hosanna! and so forth
the goldfinches regain their yellow
first as a faint chartreuse under the gray
when they alight at the feeder
overhead, buzzards return
there’s a purple martin invasion / a purple MARTIAN invasion
very rare in New Hampshire, but tell that to the mob
that cleans out the suet (or were they just greckles?
a flicker pecks at cracks in the driveway
quickly, determinedly grubbing
a circle of jays, shrieking at a raven
yet another morning
(how can anyone be fond of pigeons?)
* * *
with the binoculars again, watching incredibly high gulls
and then, all alone, the unmistakable bald eagle
sailing south, not a single flap
to be lost to a cloud and then sun glare
how is it the eagle soared southward
while the gulls kept going east-west
before and after?
or did the eagle simply Trim Sails somehow
in the upper wind?
May, a profusion of birdsong before sunrise
September, a profusion of cricket fiddling after sunset
incessant, rapturous chorus
September, why so few birds singing?
May, why so little fiddling?
migrating geese sound like a squeaky floor
suet, downy woodpeckers tweet for each bite
poem copyright 2014 by Jnana Hodson