Chase Away The Juncos
written by: Amy Brian
The juncos flit in and out
of the brush pile
and I pause to watch the white arrows of their tails
point haphazardly at the landscape.
The makeshift of sticks a wigwam
without height or door,
a place to call home but only entered through the cracks.
Their attachment to the twining of twigs
unsettles me. I know we will
soon chase them from it with flames.
My heart shifts as I consider the pile
consumed, the earth scorched, the juncos
flitting to the outskirts of the tree line.
As I consider the tree- 200 years
of triumph and contorted bark. The rot
in its gut failing until it softened into perfume
as the saws chewed it down.
To assume the burden of the transitory
motion of earth’s surface, dutifully
we piled the tree’s portions; dutifully we will chase away the juncos.
- Chase Away The Juncos - May 16, 2021
