A curated webspace for Poetry, Politics, and Nature. Over 16,000 daily subscribers. Over 7,000 archived posts.
I sit at my window watching the sun rise. The world is aglow. For the first time ever, I was able to listen to a nightingale's clarion song here in Konstancin Poland during the clear, moonlit night. A friend in Connecticut has lost over 40 friends and relatives to covid-19. Overwhelmed with grief, he can no longer speak. Another in Illinois has seen her 401k drop from over a million dollars to $400,000. How do I tell her about my friend in Connecticut? What do I say to my friend in Connecticut to let him know nightingales still sing and the moon and the sun still rise?
Christine Skarbek is an American writer who lives in Poland.
Copyright 2020 Christine Skarbek
Christine….the nightingales sing….the warblers anounce the day….the sandhill cranes chime in…all to start the day! I wake each morning to this beautiful chorus and wonder….will people notice when these small wonders of melodic gestures will be gone??? Someday…not in the distant future….people will surely be amazed when they see… one bird fly by…and in amazement say …i remember when there were so many…that we should have cherished their songs.
LikeLiked by 1 person
masages send to my email(email@example.com)