Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Jim Bates

Meadowlark on a telephone wire
Yellow breast feathers shining brightly
Backyard summertime sun
Pausing from a game of catch listening
The trilling song of wonder filling the air
The boy smiled
He tossed his younger brother the baseball and set his mitt down
“What’s up?” his brother asked
Pointing he said, “Look. Listen.”
They did.
“Cool,” his brother remarked
“Yeah,” the older one responded. “It is.”
Baseball forgotten at least for a while
They sat in the grass ears primed and ready
The meadowlark sang and sang and sang
The brothers smiled while they listened
Mesmerized by it’s the magical performance
Later that summer they bought a book on bird identification
They studied it like some would a religion
Pouring over it for hours and hours
Learning as much as they could
It was addicting
They were hooked for a lifetime


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