In Memoriam

Dawn Chorus


What I imagine are
the tiny, darting spirits
all thousands of them
once young or old now
forever unaging.

Spirits flashing seen
and then
unseen
in the early perfect light
of that next dawn.


In the Park, the heart of the City,
the birds
oh, the birds still sang.
Ten thousand songs
rose up that morning
to remind us-


our hold on life is as delicate
as the singing thrush's breath
made visible on the cool morning air. 


SS