Gone are the
Purple Martins
Gone are the
purple martins,
Gone to Central
America,
Gone to South
America,
Gone to islands
in the Caribbean.
Gone to follow
the spring,
Answering to the
magnetic field,
Answering to the
inner voice of mystery.
Gone are the
purple martins,
Only to return
next January,
Arriving and
investing the neighbor’s birdhouses
With their
chatter framed by their flying,
Their flying in
arcs,
Tracing new
curves in air.
Chatter and
flight enough
To persude me to
stay and wait.
--July 23, 2013
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