We talked and laughed over lunch
A quiche and salad and cold water
In her marvelous blooming garden
Where three birdbaths and several feeders
Drew a variety of colorful birds out of the woods
I was amazed to see so many in one place
But she knew all their names and habits
And showed me the dog-eared notebook
She'd kept for over forty years
Of the dates of the arrivals and departures
Of I forget how many different species
Native to her mountain climate
Pointing out the days when the hermit thrush
For example would come and sing and go
Always about the same times each spring
But this year it didn't appear
She said it felt like a friend
Had ghosted her and took it as the end
Of all she held close and dear
No comments:
Post a Comment