wounded
wounded
my gaze caresses
our wounded world
human illness caused—
have you noticed,
fewer birds?
bright lights, tall
buildings dazed
confused, they can’t
find their way,
birdcall fades
walking outside
no bright song—
yet filling feeders
cleaning their bath
I hope and pray
then a flutter,
bright lemon flash
male goldfinch lands
soon, his mate
relief sighs through
not gone today
I, too, have noticed fewer birds... what a sweet sighting that male goldfinch, giving you this poem with that last, lovely landing line!
Lovely and poignant,thank you!