In the middle of the night in early April,
I heard you arrive.
The darkness shrouded an ability to see
So I did not look for you, my prize.
But, I heard your cry.
You announced your arrival boldly, without being shamed.
Even the lateness of the hour could not be blamed
for the noises you make as you fly on to our lake.
No one available to gawk at your wake.
Alerting us all to your coming home,
For the summer months.
Just you alone?
Or, your family too?
Will you be making a nest to share with more than a few?
Early the next day,
I saw with my own eyes,
you floating by our cabin
where our dock lies.
Silently now in the rain you float,
dipping down for a snack from your
biological body boat.
You did not return that day at all.
Or, at least I did not notice you
Among the raindrops, continuing to fall.
Until, this morning when I glanced up again.
There you were floating by,
This time you showed off your feathers,
as you popped up on your feet,
shaking and dancing for a brief beat.
A formal black top coat, speckled with white,
with a clear underbelly, shown off in the light.
There was no doubt about it,
you were home to stay,
at least for the summer months
you’ve come to play.
On our lake in the Wisconsin Northwoods,
Oh, lovely loon,
let’s visit again real soon.
© Carol Labuzzetta, 2021
Although it is time for my Silent Sunday post, and I will make one today, this poem popped into my head and demanded to be written! So, I listened to my inner muse and got the words down as soon as I could. Enjoy!
This piece makes me smile. Your language and voice is so characteristically YOU:
“Silently now in the rain you float, /
dipping down for a snack from your /
biological body boat.”
Only you could have put those words together like that. Beautiful.
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Oh, Lainie! Thank you so much! You made my day! To have a voice in our writing that a reader recognizes – I feel both honored and humbled by your words!