Archive for January 21st, 2011

Song of a day


Look out into the grey dawn

Notice how the snow is pink as it was glowing white last night in the reflected rays of the sun

The same sun that paints every eastern cloud with shades of mind and pauve —

no no —

shades of pink and mauve.

Sam the Piano man comes this morning to tweak and tune and admire my piano

so forlorn, abandoned

in the gelid still air of the master bedroom

which is warm only in the service of passion in the early afternoons as the sun

glows through the condensation and frost on the windows and

hot breaths of desire lade the air with humidity to fuel these frost fantasies that seem like primordial forests of fern etched on the window panes

The bird feeders are empty.

I contemplate going out to fill them in my slippers but a quick glance at the single digit on the indoor/outdoor thermometer

convinces me that

boots with felt linings scarf gloves jacket hat

are all a very good idea

So I don my armor and venture out into the snowy yard

not so fresh any more but written on the soft face of the drifts are

the tales of yesterday’s foraging, the panic flight the brush of huge feathers and a tuft of little downy grey ones

left behind

The feeder was not so empty yesterday

As I fill it I hear the first soft inquisitive gold finch morning talk

a rising inflection of whistle and chat

Is there food there is food I hear water running clear

Where is Mabel?

THERE’S A SHADOW!   Floating fast across the field

Suddenly the yard is empty

Every bird has instantaneously dis-encorporated  into atmosperic atoms

I finish pouring the primo black oil sunflower seed into the metal tubes

Raise them on a steel wire above the steel squirrel baffle

that stymies them utterly in the way it floats on the supports that are bolted to the pole

banging ringing gently in the merest breeze

I spill some seeds for the starving rodents liberally on the ground

Come inside stomping snow and breathing frozen fog

glad I left my glasses inside.

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