POEMS/ Fall Out at Sabine Woods
Fall Out at Sabine Woods
When I saw the great storm
thundering off the coast
from towering dark clouds,
oh, then I knew the rain
would batter down
on thousands of birds
flying for days
from winter habitats
across the Gulf of Mexico
to summer breeding grounds,
knew these small song birds,
would be tossed and pounded
by relentless wind and water,
knew some would not
reach land, find safety
in the waiting woods.
When I saw the great storm
had let go its force and
turned away, I walked
into the woods and found
how hundreds of survivors
had dropped onto the ground
and into the trees
and perched there glistening
in the dark wet leaves,
tanagers, buntings, gross beaks,
red, oranges, blues and yellows
like ornaments or bursting buds,
blossoms or ripe fruits.
I did not know until I saw
their rainbow colors lighting up
the woods, oh, how they would
touch my sodden spirit, teach me
to keep flying through a storm
of loss and grief.
©Phyllis Beck Katz
When I saw the great storm
thundering off the coast
from towering dark clouds,
oh, then I knew the rain
would batter down
on thousands of birds
flying for days
from winter habitats
across the Gulf of Mexico
to summer breeding grounds,
knew these small song birds,
would be tossed and pounded
by relentless wind and water,
knew some would not
reach land, find safety
in the waiting woods.
When I saw the great storm
had let go its force and
turned away, I walked
into the woods and found
how hundreds of survivors
had dropped onto the ground
and into the trees
and perched there glistening
in the dark wet leaves,
tanagers, buntings, gross beaks,
red, oranges, blues and yellows
like ornaments or bursting buds,
blossoms or ripe fruits.
I did not know until I saw
their rainbow colors lighting up
the woods, oh, how they would
touch my sodden spirit, teach me
to keep flying through a storm
of loss and grief.
©Phyllis Beck Katz
