This is a poem from my friend, writer/bird watcher/Soapbox Derby racecar driver Marci Fuller of San Benito, Texas.
The Mockingbird Song
Clouds aloft,
shifting shadows light
dark on grass dying
soon, yet rain-green still.
And the Mockingbird sings
the black Grackle song.
Air around,
mesquite-scented wind warm
cool on faces tentative
torn, intense with mixed intent.
And the Mockingbird sings
the yellow Kiskadee song.
Earth underneath,
cracked clay fertile
with spring seed, yet parched
dusty on white-clad feet.
And the Mockingbird sings
the Green Jay song.
We walk we pause
we talk we swallow silence
we reach we withdraw
we laugh we clench teeth.
And the Mockingbird flies
off searching for his own song.
Copyright 2001 / Marci Madsen Fuller
northern mockingbird illustration by Julie Zickefoose
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