Ulf Kirchdorfer: “Bird Alert”

You know about addiction
when after reading the rare
bird alert you find yourself
in the rain opposite someone’s
house, window rolled down
with beach towel to cover
most of the inside door,
and you start to feel a little
better when the rain lets up
so you can begin to listen
for the piercing sound
of what are supposed to be
two Broad-winged Hawks
in a tall tree in which you can’t
see the nest the other birder
recorded, and when all you hear
is the laughter-chatter of a Red-bellied
Woodpecker, followed by a Towhee
whistle, you swallow hard, drive off,
knowing what a sight high up
would have brought, and now
this nothing rides with you
in the passenger seat home.

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