They come more often in autumn. No doubt they are inspired by nearby apple and pear trees heavy with fruit. However, like the fog, we never know when they will come and go. I read that some kinds of urban parrots have populations larger than the remaining, dwindling numbers of birds in their ancestral jungle homes. City birds may become crucial sources of DNA diversity to keep those flocks healthy. Nature does not always find a way but is frequently surprising and unexpected. I find myself a bit comforted amid all our climate change uncertainties! This poem was published in my first book, Inner Sunset.
Green Angels
The morning is luminous,
thick with mist.
Chartreuse, cherry-headed conures
scrabble-fly blindly
to their urgent wherever
invisible in the fog.
They could dive into balconies,
smash through windows,
tall houses and telephone wires,
or get caught in tree branches —
snared and hanging like spring leaves.
They are not squeaking radar bats,
nor hummingbirds,
nor zipping, hovering helicopters.
Yet, they are saved, time after time.
Perhaps tiny angels with green wings
perch near the hidden red ear
of each parrot, to steer.
Heather Saunders Estes 