"The Evening Stage"

Evening serenade:

Gray Catbird carrying on

near my left ear,

Yellow-throated Vireo

singing from the right.

Air;

dead calm,

warm and humid.

The woods are filling 

with the fresh green

of new leaves 

in deep spring.

A Pileated Woodpecker 

cackles in flight

from the north woods,

his harsh call traveling

from west to east.

Gray Tree Frogs

babble and jabber

while camouflaged 

in the moist woods.

Sandhill Cranes 

yodel from the distant bog;

sounding like

they're gargling pebbles.

And the light —

it's always about the light —

catches the edges

of soft cumulus

slowly sailing to the northeast,

where a Phoebe repeats

its plaintive call.

A light-green inchworm

climbs its own

swaying strand

of silver silk.

As dusk approaches,

ready to slide

over the end of the day,

the Season's first 

Wood Thrush

sings sweetly

into the diminishing light,

and the Chorus Frogs

in the wetland

take their turn

to perform

on the evening stage. 

? 2015 Richard Havenga