Lesley Rowe
I wrote this poem this time last year; seeing these cranes gave me a sense of hope and renewal that stayed with me a long time. I truly believed that Earth was giving us humans a chance to reboot, to rethink and address how we had abused her. My feelings on that, a year later, depend on the day and the news of that day. I continue, though, to be so grateful for my own lovely patch of the world. "There but for fortune may go you or I," as Phil Ochs sang and as we should all constantly remind ourselves.
Spring Song
Eyes on my toil
I heard them, first
and startled at
their rasping burst.
Staccato song of spring.
There, high above
in circling glide,
Two sandhill cranes
on thermal’s ride.
Aloft, and wing to wing.
Exultantly
embracing change.
Skies clear and quiet,
a re-arrange
from fouling gray
to blue.
Sweet harbingers
of hope, they were.
Uplifted was I too.
Have faith, they seemed
to call on high.
The world will come anew.
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