Sunday, February 1, 2015

But There's No Wind

He said.
It was two days after the operation
a balmy -28 celsius
almost all the birds had fled
excluding the blue-jays and chickadees –
two of his favourites.

Growing up we always had
a bird book handy 
if anything exotic to us appeared
we would find it out.
Cross-billed, red-breasted, the way
they perched or landed

all part of discovery.   Now at ninety
the hospital was just a perch
that he successfully flitted in and out of.
A winter bird that wears the feathers
of endurance, and most of all
never cease to soar.

Debbie Calverley

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