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Jill L. Ferguson
Backyard Sinfonietta
Prelude
At the break of day
as the golden fireball
ascends over the Bay
I fill the feeder:
syrupy sweet water for the hummers,
safflower seeds for the songbirds,
suet for the downy headed woodpecker,
black oil sunflowers for the chickadees,
and nyjen for the goldfinches.
Andante
Titmouse crested, gray and white
ducks his head and beak
pecking an invisible bug
up and down, up and down
like a pianist playing staccato.
Allegro
Squirrels chatter from oak trees
waiting for me to go inside
so they can scamper down
and steal a treat,
peanuts put out for them alone.
Fortissimo
Steller's jays and scrub jays
squawk discordant notes
causing smaller feathers,
scared, to scatter.
Dolente
Gray doves perch on the rooftop
blue eyes moving to and fro,
cooing a lyric opera
mourning, melodiously mourning
their wretched romance.
Legato
One Wilson's warbler,
the cantor of the group
emits bel canto
to a packed-house audience
that only she can see.
Coda
Chirps, cheeps, squawks
and coos, all together,
following a universal conductor
until the golden orb sleeps,
filling my yard
with a harmonic symphony.
©2006 by Jill L. Ferguson
Jill L. Ferguson is a poet, novelist, journalist, professor, and public speaker. Her first fiction book, Sometimes Art Can't Save You, was published in October 2005, by In Your Face Ink. She chairs the General Education Department at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music.
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