Rewarded for back-aching bulb planting
In rock-rampant soil,
We revel as daffodils hula so slightly in the wind,
Then pose in upright rows day after day
Until their too-brief performance nears its end
With bows toward the earth to which they return.
From the rust-colored magnolia bushes,
the daffies’ similarly hued fauna counterparts
Burst forth with ungaudly golden flashes;
What signals the goldfinches’ en masse arrival?
The dandy males displaying opulent good health
to charm their drably olive mates.
Mr and Ms Cardinal also reflect
Darwin’s dichromatic observations:
He vibrantly bedecked; she chicly sedate
To tend her babes in relative anonymity.
Mr Blue Jay—or his bride?—fiercely bedazzles
She’s just as deeply blue, a smaller rendering.
We’ve named our daily visiting woodpecker,
His white breast and black/white back/tail
Ensemble brilliantly set off by a red beret;
Hence “Marcel,” working away at unseen tree
Mites with seeming brain-concussing fervor;
His mate a smaller redhead, less obsessed.
The birds’ return signals forgiveness:
We failed them when they needed us most—
The feeders too snowbound in winter’s maw;
The feed store inaccessible to snowed-in cars;
With spring’s loveliness in still-chilly April air,
We welcome this treasure, Nature’s artful gifts.
NB: After reading the above, the keeper of our bird sighting list claimed:
“You got a legal letter from the firm Nuthatch, Titmouse, & Dove, representing Swallows, House Finches, and the Grackle Group, Ltd.”
In response, I hereby extend my formal apology for their omission.
And I add this note, knowing it’s out of sync with my poem, simply because it’s fun.