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Click title to download microchap
Cover: ’Ruby Crowned Kinglet’
by author
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Cedar Waxwing
shiny browns, grays, & lemon-yellow,
adorned with a subdued crest
which often lies flat
droops over the back of the head
rakish black mask, and
brilliant-red wax droplets on wing feathers
autumn waxwings gather by the hundreds
swallowing berries whole
or pluck them in mid-air
fill the air with high, thin, whistles
imitating acrobatics of a forest bird, but
flying like tubby, clumsy swallows
a pair in fruiting trees,
with a brief fluttering hover
he hops & dances,
then passes berries to his lover
Jack Sparrow
White-throated songster:
poor old sam peabody-peabody
evening bird psalms & vespers:
come join my tea party–tea party
hello mister fox sparrow
no cheap seat groundling
rich brown velvet bolero
two-footed double-scratching
farewell to a frosty reign
return to that in-between
time, mud season in Maine
fiddleheads & snow-drop queens
rich, melodious churrs - streamside thickets
slyness of jack sparrows, singing crickets
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Ruby Crowned Kinglet Boogie
Hail, oh my little king!
Plain green-grey teardrop
dark eye haloed - white eye-ring.
Flick your white bar/black bar wings.
Hover at undersides of twigs.
Dance royal bellhop, bebop!
Show your ruby crown bling.
Do your Monhegan Island hop.
Closer to God
At the least part of the day
like an exclamation mark
at your birdfeeder, a rose-breasted grosbeak
makes a chink call like a squeak of a sneaker.
Orchestrating woodlands and forest edges,
songbirds have chops.
His song ripe of operatic training
filled with an extra sweetness of robin
cascades from an enormous bill.
like a waterfall in sunlight
at the least part of the day.
Songbirds have chops.
A brilliant red chevron from throat to breast
bursts into his black & white tuxedo.
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Songbirds always eat
- after Richard Rogers
Black-naped orioles
snowy pinion bars
the orange of a marigold
petal by petal, feather by feather
ruffle the flower beds
swim through the puff
feed in the canopy
on chopped pears, apples
and tangerine halves
troweled into buttercup beaks
dream of grape jelly & apricot marmalade
sing for your supper
then bed in my apron pockets
Goldfinch’s Winter Garden
In winter clothes goldfinch balances
on seedheads of thistle & bee balm
grips rigid stalks in snowy fields --
le petit déjeuner at Cold Comfort Farm.
When they aren’t all citrine precocious,
they’re rather dull. Olive birds sans pimento,
looks like a kind of sparrow,
swooping and calling po-ta-to chip.
Notice: black wings, two pale wing bars,
pinked conical bill, pointed notched tails.
Acrobatic little finches that cling to weeds
and seed socks, lollipops & marshmallow fluff.
Invited to dine by farmers and jardinières
in sunflower gardens & unharvested fields,
the seed-laden heads bend toward
icy furrows, offer finches haw & hip.
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DiTa Ondek © 2022
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DiTa Ondek is an artist and poet traveling the world (Rome, Maine, Paris, Maine, Mexico) in search of color. She is known among my peers as a colorist (or the woman with pink hair). I paint pictures with words. There is a little acrylic portrait of every bird poem.