A curated webspace for Poetry, Politics, and Nature. Over 20,000 daily subscribers, 7,000 archived posts, 73 million hits and 5 million visitors.
Deep in the oleanders’ dense thicket, a warbling vireo screams
for a mate, another migrant back from his long
trek from Mexico. He loves the green tango
of poison leaves keeping his slim gray body
safe from Cooper’s hawk, the snelled claws
of our local bobcat, my young dog, part dingo,
who could snatch him on the wing.
I understand his need, not
desperation but the urgency
etched in his DNA driving him to sing,
belting out his singular desire.
Late night going to dawn, I write verse
few will read. Like a leaf basket
hanging from a eucalyptus branch flexible as a guitar string, I am
pushed by the future’s howling mountain wind.
Hear me please, hear
me, the melodic vireo cries, hear me
tumbles time
from his lonely beak on fire,
Hear me Hear me Hear me
the wind pleads.
Copyright 2024 Pamela Uschuk
Pamela Uschuk’s many books include Refugee (Red Hen, 2022). She is the editor of Cutthroat, A Journal of the Arts.
the green tango
of poison leaves
stunning images in this poem. Thank you
LikeLike
“tumbles time
from his lonely beak on fire” as beautiful as it is soulful. Thank you Pamela Uschuk.
LikeLike
Such a simple, pure & poignant poem…
LikeLike
Simple pure lyricism. Song-like.
>
LikeLike
your cry for the diminishing bird world. Tender, poetic, real, and power-laden. I’m glad to have read it. thank you for sharing. Poems like this should feather the world.
LikeLike
Lovely sentiment, James. Thank you.
>
LikeLike
Pam,
Thanks for channeling this bird for us today!
LikeLike
Like all the best poems, I feel this one in my gut. Love it!
LikeLike
Lovely poem, Pamela!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Isn’t it, though?
>
LikeLiked by 1 person