Ode To An Oriole
Looking like a corvid in a Hi-Viz vest
you fleeting soul, you only feed and fly.
You're rarely seen to say hello
and never seen to say good-bye.
What distance you have travelled to arrive here
determined as you are to journey on,
A sub-saharan visitor with food supply in mind
But fickle as you are, you vanish when it's gone.
Copyright © John Wilkinson | Year Posted 2021
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