Our windows are flung open
to air full of promiscuous arias
from feathered beings hopping
the leafless, monolithic, barked edges
when, a murder of crows swoop in
to steal the hanging, gooey suet,
then lift away, black and ragged,
mouths full and dripping.
Fearful and disturbing news
to seed-seeking juncos and
great-tailed pecking grackles
sent off to the branches
bending in the swirling wind.
Starry eyes glare.
Beaks stand open in alarm.
They wait in illustrous silence,
then become a quiet storm
of downy wings that flutter
back to pearly ground.
Still, the air that flows into this room
is filled with quiet courage,?
full of sensual stirrings?
in this essential season?
about to burst?
in defiance?against the surley sky.
Let us suffer one more day here
to watch the willows redden
beside grey cottonwoods.
Let us smell the softening?
of hard brown earth?under old snow.?
The ragged edges smoothed
by change once more.
Laurie James 2009
