Poetry: Warbler at Crane Creek (for Chuck)

Linnaeus  named you

Vermivora chrysoptera.

But on the net that

links the world today

you're called N.T.,

"Near Threatened" bird.

It's hard to think

that in your cup of nest

your fragile eggs,

just three (or is it four?)

that know the warmth

of belly feathers near

the point of burst

must carry on the chip,

the trill, the buzz

announcing "WARBLER!

GOLDEN-WINGED!" no less,

to what is left of life

in this rough world of

poisons, guns.

Yet in this place

a gentle man can

look through lens

can sight your

eye patch, black,

your cap, your

ear patch, white,

your yellow crown

and still believe

that someday soon

your chicks will rise,

will rise in morning light

and make their flight

to Ecuador,

to Ecuador.

_______________________

Poet Grayce Scholt is a retired Mott Community College English professor who has lived in the East Village since the 1950s. Her recently published book of poems, Bang! Go All the Porch Swings, is available from Amazon and Books-a-Million (online) and from Barnes and Noble (on order). Along with poetry, she writes art reviews for the Flint Journal.