Whose song is this that parts the air
atop the cattail reeds?
Backlit, so sleek, in morning light,
dapper rectrices preened.
Jet black the feathers, how they gleam,
lifted, they scintillate.
Epaulets flash yellow and red,
a pure voice resonates.
Each exhalation hangs mid-air,
afloat in cloudy mist,
the song suspended in vapor,
an unfurling spirit.
Breathe in a bit of this birdsong,
herald of Spring’s return.
Absorb it in your heart of hearts,
let hope take possession.
Julie Martin
A poet and public school teacher, Julie Martin lives near the confluence of the Mississippi and Minnesota Rivers. Her work has recently appeared in the following journals: The Talking Stick, Plants and Poetry, Agates, and The Coop: A Poetry Cooperative. She co hosts Up Close, an online literary program, with River Urke.
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