Bird Muse #2:   The Cardinals

Frannie Z

 

He is a tease.

He flows red across the lawn

and glimmers into the highest tree.

But when you think you’ve spotted him,

he races away.

You’d swear he’s laughing,

but you’re not quite sure

how a cardinal laughs.

 

 

His wife knows.

She flies over and around.

Never quite with him –

why make it easy?

She shunts back and forth

on the branches near him,

sliding off a small twig-end,

then edging the far leaves

Overhead.

 

In autumn they both march their red

and red brown, respectively,

into piles of darker red,

as if to match and challenge.

 

It’s the male’s metallic “thrip”

you hear when you try to search

them by sound.

 

But you could swear,

from the way she flaunts

her spins

while prodding the nest,

as if to sharpen her breadth

of bearing

-even though the books don’t say-

That it would be the female

Who sings.