Big News!

A Tribute

President Emeritus: Rose Wilkinson

There Are No Birds For This
by Susan Gordon

There are no birds for this
They have fled
and now
they have returned
to gather round your form
to somehow bring you home.

There are no birds for this
Not hawk, owl or crow
maybe mouse-he has the
close view.  He can see
the twists and knots
that brought you here.

There are no birds for this
But the smallest songsters tarry
Meadow lark, whippoorwill,
brown thrush, mountain warbler
raise their throats
and sing their complaints to heaven.

There are no birds for this
nor flower either
no oak, hickory or maple
although they were bare sentinels
grey witnesses to your dying.

There are no birds for this
What wintering birds were
in the trees about your cabin:
chickadee, cardinal, red poll, waxwing?
Did they gather along
your wooden windowsill?

There are no birds for this
Did they sing: No, No, No?
Did they sing: Stay, Stay, Stay?
And if they did,
did you not hear them?

There are no birds for this?
They have fled
and now
they have returned
to gather round your form
to somehow sing you home.

Susan Gordan
November 27, 2014

In Memory of
Carrie “Rose” Lynn Wilkinson
1979-2014

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