Poem

Veery by Jim DeVona / Ink / 5 x 7

Veery

Another gift since the start of July
has been listening to a veery in the morning
fluting in the sumac tangle
up behind the barn as I walk that rise.

I'm used to hearing that haunting
in the evening from the darkness crouching
along the creek, counter-pointed
by lightning bugs at that changing of the guard.

But in the morning the singing seems
less an ode to quiet countryside
and more a fanfare for me -
as though the kingdom belongs to us both.

7/21/20