My Lover, My Plover

by Jim Morgan

She would not display a broken-wing to me
She knows me too well for games
And with my voice chanting those chants
About how beautiful she is and how I would never harm her
She settles again on her scrape
In the burn
Where the winged sumac once stood
And the yellow warbler had perched
Before going to the willow line
Along Crawdad Creek
Back when we had thoughts to which we attached meaning
And the fear of death was a thing to overcome


Art by Jim Morgan


2 thoughts on “My Lover, My Plover”

  1. Last week we were in California dunes and the wildflowers were in full bloom, the signs all over the beaches were warning not to disturb the nesting of the snowy plovers. It was neat, because the signs were all hand drawn and written by kids. The rules were quite strict of which areas you can access without disturbing the birds and no kite flying on the beach as they may mistake it for a predator. I do not remember seeing plovers in Illinois.

    1. The ones nesting around here are called killdeer, in the plover family. A shore bird with almost no shore association. I’m sure you heard them sometime in Illinois, they’re quite noisy, but perhaps not.

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