States of Being
A poem for the eaglets who left us too soon
For ten years, the Southwest Florida Eagle Cam has broadcast the lives of the eagles nesting in a slash pine in Fort Meyers. About a month and a half ago, we were overjoyed at the arrival of E24 and E25, the latest eaglets to hatch in the nest. They were doing well, growing and flourishing. But this past week, they both died within a couple of days of each other. It was a shock, but after investigation, the Clinic for the Rehabilitation of Wildlife learned that both eaglets died of the same bird flu ravaging the nation’s chickens.
I wasn’t planning on writing a poem for them, but then I saw an egret in my yard, and the words came. So here’s a short poem for the birds.
Two eaglets are dead, gone from their nest like the eggs missing from grocery store shelves. Their father fed them the flu, not knowing he was bringing them death. Now we wait, and hope that the parents only mourn and do not join their children in our hearts. Closer to home, a great egret bobs about in my yard. Eaglets and egrets, only a few letters separate life and death. Meanwhile, my cat naps in the sun, oblivious to either bird, to either state of being. All she knows is warmth and the comforting weight of my hand on her heart.
WEEKEND POTPOURRI:
Currently on repeat:
MIDMORNING
By Selma Meerbaum-Eisinger
Wind, dreamy notes, sings its lullaby, gently touching the leaves. I let myself be, seduced, immersed in song like grass. Air shivers and cools my fevered face wrapped in desire. Clouds drift by, scatter white, sun-stolen light. The old acacia leaves silence a trembling tangle of leaves. The scents of the earth rise, climb and then fall back to me.
oh this is a gorgeous, heartbreaking poem Yardena. The line break at "gone / from their nest" - just brilliant. thank you for sharing this.