THE VISITORS
For six months, I have been waiting
The barren bones of trees
Showing soft hues of buds
The strength of daffodils to push
Upward through hardened earth
The anticipated sweetening of the air
As blooms with audacious colors
Open and release perfumed scents
And yet, I am walking alone
Amidst a new absence of sounds
Hoping that as someone passes
They will not release viral
Droplets from their mouths
To be downwind of another
Is to find me holding my breath
My head averted in opposite direction
We are alone in a collective waiting
Not for the gift we had hoped for
But for visitor Covid 19
To come and to go.
The migrants are coming
It starts in small numbers
They are crossing borders
They will not heed the warnings
They gather on wires and branches
Their numbers are swelling
They know that to be downwind
Is to have others ease their journey
They sing with abandon
To large and diverse audiences
They seek each other for close encounters
They flash obscenely rich colors
Saying, “Come to me, come to me”
Oh, my beautiful feathered friends
We welcome your arrival
We need you now.
-KSuskin
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http://www.NortheastBirding.com/CayugabirdsWELCOME
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ARCHIVES:
1) http://www.mail-archive.com/cayugabirds-l@cornell.edu/maillist.html
2) http://www.surfbirds.com/birdingmail/Group/Cayugabirds
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