Warbler’s Confession

Warbler (Image from Pixabay.com)

(After witnessing a strange sight in the French Alps, March 24, 2015)

Today one of those giant fowl
passed with the grandest roar
I watched with admiration
how this mighty bird could soar.

But then it did the oddest thing
a most peculiar sight
changed attitude from up to down
descended like a kite.

I chirped and called and warbled
to warn it of disaster
but that great monstrous creature
only descended faster.

It plowed into a mountain
crashed into the cliffs
split into a million tiny
shards and broken bits.

I admit my jealousy
of giant’s perfect beak
its angle eyes, symmetric wings
its feathers smooth and sleek

it’s eagle speed, its beeline flight
its course above the cloud
its noble bold intelligence
its call, steady and loud.

But that’s all in the past now
I’ll never more complain
that I’m a simple warbler
and not a fancy plane.

© 2016 by Violet Nesdoly (All rights reserved)

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I wrote this poem on April 1, 2015, the first day of 2015’s National Poetry Month. As you can tell, it was inspired by a tragic air event that had happened about a week before, on March 24, 2015.

I planned already earlier this week  to publish it for Poetry Friday as my persona poem contribution to Michelle’s (and Laura Shovan’s) May challenge at Today’s Little Ditty. Then another eerily similar plane disappearance occurred just this morning, May 19th, Paris time.  Oh my! My poem is by no means meant to make light of these very serious events.

Warbler reminds us, too, that it’s good to be just who we are.

This poem is linked to Poetry Friday, hosted today by the lovely Margaret Simon at Reflections on the Teche.

 

Aviation Mystery

View of B.C. mountains from the air – Photo © 2015 by V. Nesdoly

This is a poem of everyday freight
of Flight 66 that was bound for Prince George
a steep wooded hillside, a wreck found by night.

Southeast of Crown Mountain strewn over a gorge
the cockpit and crew were found the next day
of Flight 66 that was bound for Prince George.

Plane dropped from the sky in a curious way
near engine nacelle space a small fire burned
the cockpit and crew were found the next day.

He combs through the wreck to see what can be learned
bits of cockpit and fuselage in amongst trees
near engine nacelle space a small fire burned.

Between snowy cedars in snow to his knees
activated transmitter whose signal is mute
bits of cockpit and fuselage in amongst trees.

No witness to tell of that day, on that route.
This is a poem of everyday freight
activated transmitter whose signal is mute
a steep wooded hillside, a wreck found by night.

© 2015 by Violet Nesdoly (All rights reserved)

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It’s been happening a lot lately—planes mysteriously disappearing from radar with the wreckage found later, mute and mystifying. One of those events (a cargo plane crash in the B.C. mountains on April 15, 2015) is the subject of this poem that I wrote during this April’s poem-a-day challenge. This Transportation Safety Board entry provided some of the poem’s details. The terzanelle form with its repeating lines seemed right to tell the story of this tragic mystery.

Since the original story, there’s been another development. Two weeks ago the autopsy of the pilot revealed that he had high levels of alcohol in his body. So sad…

This post is linked to Poetry Friday, hosted today by Sylvia Vardell at Poetry For Children.