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The Birders at Miesville Ravine

by Maryann Corbett


When they stand in the wet
where the jewelweed grows,
their binoculars set
on a night heron's pose
at the edge of a pond
with a turtlehead frond--

When a hummingbird zooms
with a linear bold-
ness to jewelweed blooms
in translucence of gold,
and it hovers and floats
at the jewelweed throats--

do the sunhatted heads
with their whitening hair
feel the thrumming of threads
of the numinous there
in the god-haunted years
before life disappears?

By the yellowbill's call
from the top of a tree,
are they taken in thrall
as they struggle to see
in the aspenleaf green
that which cannot be seen?

In a pilgrimage made
to a rural-route park,
what is sought is unsaid.
Like the sharpening spark
at the edge of the knife,
these scintillas of life.


Maryann Corbett's poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Able Muse, The Barefoot Muse, kaleidowhirl, Nimble Spirit Review, The Raintown Review, Whistling Shade, and The William and Mary Review.

She works as a legal writing adviser, editor, and indexer for the Minnesota Legislature.

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