
Shrikes
Evergreen sentinels stoic as
Mosses crowd and gape
Absorbing sound, swallowing light
Their world undiminished
Except for the buzz
The hum the roar of
Tiny winged tyrants
Feasting, taunting, tasting
A moment, a movement, a surprise
Low swoop to spruce followed
In a breath by a second
Dark gray masses flank
A squawk, a lilt, a hello
Curious and bold
Eyes meet flummoxed and sizing
Me up from their virtuous stem-stoop
Why am I here? Queried
Questions I cannot answer
I stand silent and blinking and away
They flap together in the green
Vibrant world
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