How Wood Thrush by Laura Foley

How Wood Thrush

—for Ad Shaw 1931-2021

How a single wren still warbles on a topmost branch
of a swaying poplar tree

how dandelions still appear
like scattered suns across a grassy field

how the unknowing field rests, unmown,
and will remain long enough to host the nesting bobolink

how the steward of this land for many seasons
of late haying, leaf fall, ice and deep snow

how a dragonfly sips nectar from a flower,
pauses on my knee as if to speak

how my focus shifts to his old window
in the vale, just beyond the reedy pond—

how wood thrushes just returned
sing their liquid notes in hemlock woods’

cool shade, but return to silence
when the sun emerges from a cloud

how the day still breaks
into spring’s first heat

by Laura Foley

Editor’s Note: This elegy uses lovely, clear imagery as remembrance of a loved one, and it is this juxtaposition of life’s vibrancy to loss that sharply underscores the grief.


3 responses to “How Wood Thrush by Laura Foley”

  1. Suzy Lawrence Avatar
    Suzy Lawrence

    Hi, it would be nice (& recommended) to relocate your name which is inserted in each poem “by Christine Klocek-Lim” to another spot and retitle instead of using “by” perhaps use “website created by” or something like that. It is confusing to readers as to whom each poem is by and quite odd to have your name where it is as though you are the creator of the poem. I enjoy your posts and have shared them and have got many comments about the oddness and confusion of who has written the poem. Thanks, Suzy

    Sent from my iPhone Suzy Lawrence


    1. Christine Klocek-Lim Avatar

      Hello Suzy, I use a personal wordpress account to manage Autumn Sky Poetry DAILY, and wordpress automatically includes my name as the owner of the “blog.” In order to relocate my name, I’d have to upgrade the site, which would incur costs I’m not willing to pay. Submitting is free. Reading is free. I pay for the domain and site out of my own pocket. Thanks, Christine

  2. Thomas DeFreitas Avatar

    The poem is gorgeous and vivid and alive. I cherish the specificity of “poplar” and “bobolink.”

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