Warbler Migration [poem]
Warbler Migration
The Honeysuckle bushes are full of trembling…
The tops of the tall goldenrods suddenly toss…
Something’s in there
Furtively feeding
Now and then a rush of wings
Or a flash of brown…
The little warblers are passing through,
Nibbling and picking their way southward,
Blown by the chilling October wind.
You won’t see them in the tidy flowerbeds
Or the expanse of tended lawns;
Instead, they feast in the wild tangle
Of hedgerows I insist must remain unmowed.
Who knows what they find to eat in there…
And yet they have been harvesting, for many minutes now,
A bounty that Earth provides,
Found only by creatures who still know
How to live from the land.
LCS
Oct. 2012
This poem was inspired, in part, by flickr friends and kindred spirits such as Wilderness Gal
www.flickr.com/people/wildernesssgal/ - and there are others, too...
Warbler Migration [poem]
Warbler Migration
The Honeysuckle bushes are full of trembling…
The tops of the tall goldenrods suddenly toss…
Something’s in there
Furtively feeding
Now and then a rush of wings
Or a flash of brown…
The little warblers are passing through,
Nibbling and picking their way southward,
Blown by the chilling October wind.
You won’t see them in the tidy flowerbeds
Or the expanse of tended lawns;
Instead, they feast in the wild tangle
Of hedgerows I insist must remain unmowed.
Who knows what they find to eat in there…
And yet they have been harvesting, for many minutes now,
A bounty that Earth provides,
Found only by creatures who still know
How to live from the land.
LCS
Oct. 2012
This poem was inspired, in part, by flickr friends and kindred spirits such as Wilderness Gal
www.flickr.com/people/wildernesssgal/ - and there are others, too...