BIRD WATCHER
by Jane Yolen
Across the earless
face of the moon
a stretch of Vs
honks homeward.
From the lake
laughs the last joke
of a solitary loon.
Winter silences us all.
I will miss
these conversations,
the trips at dawn
and dusk,
where I listen carefully,
then answer
only with my eyes.
Please comment
if you wish.
BarrytheBirder
Photos by BarrytheBirder
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