The Poetry Marathon

III.

Hollow boned, feather light

if it weren’t for birds

would we have thought of flight?

But look –

Icarus was feathered and bird-winged

And De Vinci’s sketches had a birdness about them.

Our flight success is metal and heavy and

spews offal into the air and grinds out

an unnatural roar which

Is not like birdsong.

II.

Birdsong, birdsong,

– dawn to dusk

birdsong follows the light.

Bird surround-sound gloriously

envelopes this sun filled day

cascading melodies

Interrupted only by computer hum

as I write this ode

to bird song, bird song.

Do the birds remember which notes

their dark throats trebled into forest and field

when bird first found her voice?

Was she winged and feathered –

or did dinosaurs sing…

I.

Bird looking listening

from the bird tree near the porch

this perfect Vermont morning

Raven husky caulk and croon

floats across dew cloaked meadows

drowning soft Chickadee hum and flutter.

Bold Jay stomps and caws

tilting his head to eye

the peanut spot, demanding!

Sleek Mourning Doves mourn

and coo as they peck seed

from the ground.

A Red Winged Black Bird

strikes her crystal note

and flies away flashing red.

Then the Raven comes out of the tall tree stand

and all I can hear is the power,

the loud swoosh, swoosh

of her wings.

I am so happy to have stumbled across the Poetry Marathon, although I’m doing the half. I have been an intermittent poet since I was in middle school  – MANY decades ago.

I’ve had a dry spell and am looking forward to this structure to get going again!!

I live in Vermont and I’m retired from              human services work. I am a part time.    substitute teacher at our local HS,  a passionate gardener, and I dabble in watercolors.

I’m also really into looking at the birds that feed near my porch,  and I’m seriously enamored of a Raven pair I’ve been watching for years.

I have a feeling I’ll be writing about birds.