Sometime in the wee hours
the migration broke over
Southern Maine like a wave…
not in a trickle but a flood,
as though somewhere south
a dam had broken.
Yesterday the yard belonged
to the winter shift…
chickadees and titmice,
the occasional Downy Woodpecker,
and the ever-present squirrels…
This morning there are Juncos by the hundreds,
Song Sparrows by the tens, a gaggle
of Grackles, a Cardinal or two,
and even my one-a-year Fox Sparrow
shuffling last year’s maple leaves
where they pile under the Pines,
resting a moment with us
on its way north to breed.
I will admit to having my moments of doubt
in the last month or so, but it is looking
like we will all live to see
another spring in Maine.