The Wood Thrushes' Song


Migrating northward, the wood thrushes pause

Within these Ozark woods. Perched, and boldly

Declaring their presence—their intention—

With a soft, airy—whit! The woods resound

With whit! Whit-Whit!—and though their simple song

May be single-minded (I’m here, be mine!),

It is orchestral—the whole being greater 

Than the sum of its parts—for in its way

Each whit! is unique to its intended.

I walk, I listen, I appreciate

Knowing the woods will soon be without whit.

There will be a brief aural lapse before
Other songs of procreation—urgent,

Primal, understandable—fill the void.






Poetry by jim The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 152 times
Written on 2021-05-04 at 04:23

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
There is much to like about this poem. The descriptions are great, so is the voice of the poet who passes on his understanding of the woods, the wood thrushes, and life in general.

Bibek The PoetBay support member heart!
This is nature writing at its best. And I think the form (freestyle sonnet) complements the theme. Also, I like how you've portrayed the transitory nature of life through the conceit of migrating birds, their sweet songs, the aural lapse, and the other noises filling in the void. All in all, splendid!