Autumn Birds

Autumn Birds

The slender fingers of golden poplar trees
shadow a flock of shivering students,
and wave wistfully and stiff
in the cold breeze of autumn.

The students perch on my balcony,
gazing to the horizon,
then back, and to the horizon again.
Trying to find one significant something.

Some complain of cold, and huddle
together for warmth. Others protest
they can’t see anything, don’t understand.
Sparrows and chickadees needing encouragement.

Others intently survey the world.
Spotting a bit of red here, a tall structure
there, finding interest and exploring
the uniqueness of this small patch of world.

Eyes keen as the red-tailed hawk,
they dive upon ideas,
and write impressions
on frayed notebook paper.

Still others display a talent
for hiding themselves, disguised,
minds camouflaging genius behind simple humor.
Unwilling to display the color hiding beneath.

Perhaps the autumn breeze is too cold,
their fledgling wings unsure
of who they are. Still afraid
to lift their voices up in individual song.

But Spring will touch us soon.
I hope my birds will find the strength
to experience the world unencumbered
by the bounds of those they call friends.

-Brent Nice 11/07/2008