This Preserve (poem)

Posted by ractrose on 10 Dec 2016 in Art, Poems

    This Preserve   And the starling, though despised, prefers to say: “This preserve is not my native place.” The man who cares for nature leads Keeping a two-fingered grip on his zoom lens His Sibley in his armpit A lost wax welcoming grimace On the donor’s plaque seldom read Only when the bus […]