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Winter Birds in Minnesota [a poem with a commentary]

Winter Birds in Minnesota

High above winter’s frosted trees
Above the Mississippi,
Clouds thaw,
In the afternoon sun—
Fly! Fly low winter birds of Minnesota
Fly low: chipper on, wave
Those rusted wings waiting for spring
Fly low: fly low, play your
Games of ‘Hide and go seek,’ defying
The frail soul in this land of cold
Of arctic winds: and bleak snow …!

Happy the birds—despite their frets, —
Despite the woes and dim fields of
Corn now froze, now full of snow,
Where they fly over in a silent pose,
Waiting for Minnesota’s spring thaw!
Fly! Fly low winter birds of Minnesota.

#1091 1/22/06

Comments on Planet Earth, by the author: “All of nature, in particular the earth, is in a way, a temple, to me: a living creature, and perhaps we are the mesh, the web, the net, or the bug the wind scratches when it gets irritated with us for hurting her. Perhaps the trees are her pillars, or her columns; the moon and the stars her light in this vast and dark universe. She will out live us, we all know that, I think. And so I say, just watching birds in the middle of winter, in an arctic state as Minnesota, is interesting in that you see the human struggle in nature just as well as if you were at any other place on earth: the desert, the deep of the sea, the Amazon Jungle, or the Andes: Minnesota, like the rest of the world, like the big cities, we all have our means of survival, do we not, and so does the birds of Minnesota, however they do it, it’s amazing, for Minnesota gets damn cold.”

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