Polioptila melanura
Black-tailed gnatcatcher
Alexis Springer
“O vespering bird, how do you know,
How do you know?”
—Thomas Hardy
To have an eye for such things—small
and distant—the black underwings,
a summer’s crown,
insects emerging from the underbellies
of stone;
the black-tailed gnatcatcher knows emergence well—
swiftly traversing entangled cacti and creosote bush,
how she knows her prey inside, how she lives a life unseen.
Hidden in the humble desert scrub
the nest is an open cup—homespun
from spider webs strips of bark tobosa blades—homespun
to hold the red-speckled eggs of her,
and the cowbird’s parasitic brood.
O high-strung songbird, what makes you
release the sharp, scolding call?
This place, this nest once shared,
the speckled unborn lie still—
True, desert bird, what keeps you
resident in this single, arid space?
Maybe it’s the way warmth rises.
~~~~~
Alexis Springer is a poet, educator, and freelance writer. Much of her writing is driven by her preoccupation with metaphysics. Her poems can be found in publications like Oleander Review, Fortnight Literary Press, and The Michigan Daily.