and age-old discipline
of winter,
it grows more
and more difficult to recall
the eager colors
or the deftly
phrased but simply stated
songs of lost companions
like the iridescent starling
and the ardent,
chatty cardinal. Now,
under headstone-
heavy (and just as gray)
skies, it's become a lot simpler
to fall in line
and recite, in
alphabetical order,
strict lists
of their names in
binomial Latin—
preferably from
memory, and quick
as we can—lest we
get a cold rap
on the knuckles
again.
