Poem

Clearing brush: a compromise


At this scale of ruination
the yellowthroats and warblers that I know
will likely lose their homes.

The neighborhood I excised
of vines and bracken
was their safe haven

and rather than remain
so clearly bright amid new open ground
they will bolt to other cover. And so

the new-hewn view from my porch chair,
while unrestrained to the river's blue,
will not include their commerce

in pairs and threes
amid the comfort of a chaos
in which they thrived.