The Cuckoo Poem by John Rickell

The Cuckoo



Remote and lonely baritone
the first in May,
clock-work, mechanical,
two notes not to be forgotten
haunting spring time solos
sung from oak and ash
awakening to a spring
confirmed at last.
Courting pigeons in the birch
green and siver bark,
chill east winds
threaten winter's return,
but the solos sing a sweeter song,
hope beneath the rainbow arch
haunts the evening light...
joining the skylarks' twitter,
pheasants in alarm as foxes roam.
I heard the first in spring
will tell my envious friends
and toast the lonely cuckoo.

Friday, December 5, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: spring
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
i had walked my wood and heard the first cuckoo
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