Poem for Hour Six (6/24)

Normally people are blind to avian presence,

Ordinarily chalked up to “Well, see, there’s no interesting birds around me,”

Really?

Then I guess you didn’t see the whistling duck whose breath was stuck, captured,

Hung in midair, by photographers who spent hours lying there, just to get the shot.

Atlantic puffins, silhouetted against sunbathed rocks, to say naught about,

Meadowlarks, stark and yellow.

Everyone takes crows for granted, common, yes, but grand, these things should be taught about,

Recent research tells us these survivors can solve for specific solutions with superior

Intellect.

Canada geese forming perfect V’s,

All throughout those short winter months.

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