May 3, 2018
The soulful notes of a wood thrush cease
when coded warnings cut the air.
A hawk swoops through the understory
culling anoles and unwary mice.
Chipmunks skitter for hidden dens.
A buzzard wheels overhead.
Shadows and silence …
The bustle resumes.
Beauty is a privileged vision
in a world hard about business –
Where nervous squirrels vie for the rights
to your bird feeder
and goldfinches fight for the tattered sack
of thistle seed.
Where biting flies rise from brush
and chiggers infest the meadows.
They covet your blood
for you, too, are a creature of spring.
You are the doe and deer tick,
the moth and the evening swallow.
You are the red-shouldered hawk
and the unfortunate field mouse too slow to his hole.
You are the quickest chipmunk,
the top finch on a thistle bag,
the orphaned fawn, the crippled wren,
bones and feathers pecking the dirt.
You’re the squirrel chased back to her perch
chattering oaths and scratching fleas.
You are the starboard hind flank flea
and the chigger that missed her mark.
Spring is open air improv ballet.
Its beauty is hard business.
Its beauty is hard business.
