The other day, the NaPoWriMo prompt was to re-read a bit of Spoon River Anthology and write something in the voice of someone who has died. That wasn’t the day for me to do it but today, I took that idea and my remembrance of my Junior High (remember when grades 7 and 8 were Junior High rather than Middle School?) Science teacher and went with it. Still in progress but here it is. And what a wonderful day full of sun and flowers and birds today was.
In my front tree and across the road
the birds each in their own tongue
are calling, hoping, seeking
telling how great it is to be a bird
how wonderful this kind lady feeds them
how warm the sun, how good to be back in town
at least that’s what I think they say
It’s true I don’t really know
the meaning of it all is
but my junior high science teacher
Mrs Sheehey thought it was good to learn
about birds and bird songs and taught us.
Sometimes she’d spout bird talk thus:
who cooks for YOU? – holding out the last
who cooks for YOU? Barred owl, she’d say, then
Peter! Peter! Peter! – and wait for
someone to call out – a cardinal!
Not suggesting the topics of conversation
she hoped we’d pay attention and now I do
and this time of year, birds and song-full
I think of her, imagining her nearby
looking up into the tree with me,
her whistling and me, without whistle,
calling Phoebe… Phoebe… Phoebe…
uncertain who is returning my call.
Today I got up relatively early and headed off on an errand to the post office. Received notice that an appearance from fall 2020 was rescheduled to fall 2022. LOL hope they send me a reminder!
Thought I’d swing by and get some toner for printer but saved that for another day.
Lots of action in the front yard all day.
I call ‘chickadee’
a bird calls ‘chickadee-dee-dee’
we enjoy our chat.
