On this last day of August and the (almost) unofficial end of Summer I send you this poem written on the last day of our stay in Union Pier, Michigan that Summer of the year 2000.
Last
Day
Blue jays on the porch!
Hurrah!
Hurrah!
A bright red cardinal lands
on the roof of the house
next door and sits there
in all his glory
fiery and masked.
Finches flit
in and out of scrub brush,
all one witness of this holiness,
this natural world
we’re giving up soon.
Later, when
the stars fill the sky like distant
lights we’ll take our last walk
on the beach. We’ll
notice the moon
once again
sailing out above the black lake, above
the earth, among the constellations:
Orion, Cassiopeia, Centaur, yet,
unlike a whole priesthood of sky watchers
before us, we will not know
what we’re gazing at in that raw hole
shimmering, studded.
We’ll only grasp
the fortune of our short lived expedition
and lament our imminent loss.
Are you still doing bird watching? mk
ReplyDeleteYes, but not often. I'd like to get back to it.
ReplyDeleteThe Farmers Market was outstanding. Not to mention the breakfast.
Glad you enjoyed the Farmer's Market and the wonderful throw back to the 50's breakfast. The Farmer's market has become our Sunday morning ritual. mk
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