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Clade Song 13

Woods-Edge and Backyard

The goldfinches sweet-chatter
perched in a perfumed breeze
wafting through lilac bloom;
I bring out a tray of black-oil
sunflower seeds. Cardinals warble
redness into the choke cherries. My head’s
pugnaciously barraged
by a territorial
ruby-throated hummingbird
as I advance to the metal shepherd’s hook
dutifully delivering his flower:
sugar water in a hanging glass globe.
Grey squirrels bark as I’m putting out
dried corn cobs, chipmunks hop near
across waves of grass, diminutive statues
until I back up a step. There’s a silhouette
of hawk stilled in pine shadow
surveying our patch, our pageant.

The moment decays like root-wood
when a poor clumsy porcupine plummets
from the top of the munched-out balsam.
I like to think that we all mourn his passing--
but such wishes have no real power
in this place--dark wings
and chittering bellies
are moved by songs
that know nothing
of dirges.
Everyone loves it here.







Scott T. Hutchison's previous work has appeared in Split Rock Review, The Fourth River, The Georgia Review and The Southern Review. A new book of poetry, Moonshine Narratives, is available from Main Street Rag Publishing. Poems are forthcoming in Evening Street Review, Illuminations, Steam Ticket, Tampa Review, and Slipstream