Derek Furr

Red-Necked Grebe

It had flown already.
I had dropped everything
To go see it.

Three scaups scooted
Among the dwindling ice floes
On the Hudson.

Group-home boys
Balanced on the defunct trolley rails
And pushed each other over.

A cocker spaniel
In a sweater like a tea cozy
Was named Brady.

The 3:15 Amtrak to New York
Glimmered down the opposite bank,
Bright under bare trees.

I will misquote the Apostle Paul:

“Whatever is true and pleasing,
If there is anything worthy of praise,
Think about these things.”

Don’t get me wrong:
I would like to see a red-necked grebe,
Another one, on a different day.

Still on the walk home
Toddlers in pink and orange parkas
Ran ahead of their mothers,

Paused,
And ran back,
Laughing.