Wednesday, December 13, 2023


Moonrise before the day’s end
And the northern pygmy owl
Had already started up

In the ponderosa stands.
For some reason that kicked off
Sparrow chatter, or maybe

It was coincidental,
Incidental to shadows
Reaching the critical length.

Two dozen browsing turkeys
Had been by hours earlier.
Then it fell quiet again.

Even in sheltered park land,
Bird noises are getting rare,
Never the cacophony

Of woods centuries ago.
It’s a far severer world
The planet is preparing,

One of those post-extinction
Eras of a million years
Or several or a few,

When the last era’s ruined
Niches will stand bare of forms
Until some new ones fill them.

Still, you sat by the road, one
Who’d be gone before much more
Went, and loved well what was then.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.