A Dissonant Sun

bird on deck

A Dissonant Sun

the sun is setting in the west (no surprises there)
that sundown breeze is blowing white petals like confetti
from the cherry tree  into my beer
tap tap tap
behind my back a woodpecker does his nut
on the silver birch tree;
two weeks of sunshine
an indecent amount for Vancouver,
that low spring sun, long shadows,
everything over-lit
like in a David Lynch movie
or The Truman Show
or one of those movies
where humans are being turned into aliens
one by one, and no one knows who the real people are;
a black-capped chickadee hops along the deck rail
bush tits flit from bush to bush
a fat crow waddles across the lawn
like a cardinal across St. Peter’s Square
a blue jay watches from the roof of the garden shed,
and I wonder how do I know all these bird names
I mean, crows, fair enough, but bush tits?
black capped chickadees? Is this the movie
where I wake up and I’m a nature poet
wandering lonely as a cloud,
where I’m from, the clouds are never lonely
where the clouds are never lonely
didn’t Bono write a song about that
or was it the streets that were never lonely
anyway, fuck this for a lark
hey, isn’t that a zebra finch?
aren’t they native to Australia?

 

Taking part in Open Link Weekend over at earthweal.

17 thoughts on “A Dissonant Sun

  1. Sherry Marr

    I loved this so much. I am grinning. Love all the birds, love that you know the names and, especially, love your astonishment that you KNOW the names…lol. Typical Canadian, eh? I love the wry humour. I needed this smile today, Jim. Just watched Nova Scotia Remembers, in tears. OMG.

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  2. kim881

    Enjoyed your flock of birds, Jim, and I’m feeling smug for knowing all of them by sight. I loved all the little asides, especially ‘Is this the movie where I wake up and I’m a nature poet wandering lonely as a cloud’ and ‘anyway, fuck this for a lark’ – that’s very English! I also love the image of the cherry petals falling into your beer – they stick to my washing – and the woodpecker ‘doing his nut on the silver birch’ – so familiar.

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  3. earthweal

    The real Truman Show is humans wandering around in the watchworks of nature wondering, too late, who’s in charge here. How could we otherwise be, void of course and of course right here. Amen bro, and loved it … I miss those long raw waking mornings in Spokane in spring, somewhere between real heartbreak and Roxy Music … Here in Florida we just keep getting the volume pumped with more heat & storm. Hot pickeled fish. Guess where we’re headed.

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    1. sdtp33 Post author

      Thanks Brendan, I’ve spent sometime in Jacksonville and south Georgia and you seemed to be getting an early start on the hot weather down there!

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    1. sdtp33 Post author

      Interesting you should ask about that finch, I was hoping someone would…it turned up in our back garden one day, kept flying at our heads and following us everywhere, showed no fear, I only learned later that it was native to Australia and probably was an escaped pet…..it flew off somewhere in the end!

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  4. Truedessa

    Waking up as a nature poet isn’t a bad thing if you ask me. I know many birds as well and I wonder how that came to be. I sat outside for a bit yesterday and listened to the beautiful songs of two cardinals singing a song of love. A catbird decided he had to put on a show. It was quite amusing on a glorious sunny day here which has been a rarity.

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