snowy egret photo by Len Blumin‘Snowy Egret’ and ‘Dusky Seaside Sparrow’: Two Bird Poems by Margaret Coats The Society April 17, 2024 Beauty, Culture, Poetry 37 Comments . Snowy Egret Here where sunlight sparkle rinses Cypresses whose balding branches Shoulder epiphytic orchids (Cowhorn, spider, ghost, or scented), Tangled mangrove swamp condenses Fortress walls against surf breakage; Leggy roots and finger shoots pry Into algal mats fermented. Spanish moss like pearl-grey hair flows Over knobby knees of pond trees; Firebush, fuchsia, lyreleaf sage meet Railroad vines that trail through tickseed. Here subtropic florid air blows (Freshened touching zephyr lilies), Forcing past wave-chiseled shoreline Labyrinthine rafts of seaweed. Froglings, minnows, rock shrimp, insects Proffer prey for pointed sabers; When a sinuous neck extended Fleetly swoops to feed in secret, Breeding plumage swirls like incense, White as cloud mist effervescent; Feather wisps and fringes twirling Silhouette the snowy egret. . epiphytic: growing in trees breeding plumage: extra feathers that appear only during breeding season . . . Dusky Seaside Sparrow Chiaroscuro stygian-shaded bird, North Merritt Island nursed your buoyancy While cord grass growth abundantly concurred. Between two rivers—hems that skirt the sea— Your undistinguished squeaky cheeping stirred In humbly isolated brilliancy. Downgraded to subspecies, you demurred: Canaveral’s bird count lost your fluency, O salt-and-pepper harlequin unheard. . The dusky seaside sparrow was declared extinct in 1990. Its principal habitat had been Merritt Island, Florida, a strip of land between the Indian River and the Banana River, roughly parallel to the Atlantic Ocean shore in the vicinity of Cape Canaveral. . . Margaret Coats lives in California. She holds a Ph.D. in English and American Literature and Language from Harvard University. She has retired from a career of teaching literature, languages, and writing that included considerable work in homeschooling for her own family and others. NOTE TO READERS: If you enjoyed this poem or other content, please consider making a donation to the Society of Classical Poets. The Society of Classical Poets does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or commentary. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)Trending now: 37 Responses Roy Eugene Peterson April 17, 2024 As always, amazing and educational. You brought alive the Snowy Egret environment while challenging us to research species in a seemingly endless stream of unfamiliar names. Your vocabulary and skill in using it is off the charts. “The Dusky Seaside Sparrow” is plucked from obscurity and beautifully placed before us as an object of historical curiosity and sad demise adeptly and sadly concluding with “O salt-and-pepper harlequin unheard.” Reply Margaret Coats April 18, 2024 Thanks, Roy! The snowy egret is a wonder to catch sight of, which is why the poem mostly speaks of its environment, as background to the stunning surprise. Both birds here existed in the natural milieu of my childhood, and I’m coming back to celebrate the one and lament the other. I may never have seen (and certainly never noticed) a dusky seaside sparrow, but it is sad to know the opportunity has vanished. Glad to have your appreciation of both poems. Reply jd April 17, 2024 Two enviable poems, Margaret, and a fitting tribute by Mr. Peterson. Love “the knobby knees of palm trees” and Snowy Egrets. We see them once in a while and it always seems a blessing. Reply Margaret Coats April 18, 2024 Snowy egrets do have a wide range, and I’m glad you’ve been able to see them. The “knobby knees” are a special feature of wetland cypress-type trees; they can produce one or more stumps that each look like a human knee, coming out of a marshy pond near the main tree trunk. Thanks for reading, jd! Reply Gary Krauss April 17, 2024 Both poems filled my senses with colorful imaginings. Beautiful! Reply Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 Gary, thanks for reading these and responding to beauty in them. Reply C.B. Anderson April 17, 2024 Margaret, you may well be the Audubon of Letters. I much appreciated your attention to the details of the flora in the egret’s habitat and the lesson on taxonomy in the second poem. When it comes to splitters and lumpers, lumping is usually preferred. Reply Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 C. B., my supreme grade school effort in drawing with colors was a snowy egret picture (the only work of mine framed by my parents). That being lost, I have turned to letters, and thank you for your professional appreciation of floral details. They are less elusive than the bird! Fortunately, that species of heron thrives, unlike the dusky seaside sparrow–lost whatever taxa we use to name it. By the time the last ones were protectively captured, only six males could be found. Reply Warren Bonham April 17, 2024 This is Audubon plus Webster plus Wordsworth rolled into one. I learned about new animals described in a beautifully poetic manner using words I hadn’t heard before. Very well done with both poems! Reply Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 Thank you so much, Warren. Poets do have an affinity for birds, though we usually make our mark with one or two kinds. But the Canaveral area where I grew up used to win the yearly Audubon count for number of species sighted on a single day, so I may continue, with encouragement like yours. Reply Joseph S. Salemi April 17, 2024 The trochaic rhythm of “Snowy Egret” is very effective. It allows for the long list of plants, insects, and fish to move along quickly, and gives emphasis to individual items. I agree with Roy — your vocabulary and skill in using it are off the charts. I also like the interlinked rhyme scheme of the tercets in “Dusky Seaside Sparrow” (ABA, BAB, ABA). “Chiaroscuro stygian-shaded bird” is one helluva line — literally! I will add “frogling’ to my list of –ling diminutives. Reply Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 Joe, thanks for your many points of appreciation. In “Snowy Egret,” I worked away from an early free verse piece called “The White Peacock,” that was rambling, repetitive, much too long for the matter contained, and without meter. To make a strongly contrasting formal poem, regular trochaic seemed a better choice than iambic. Thus I’m especially glad you find it effective. And knowing that you consider the opening line of “Dusky” one literal “helluva” line makes me feel the shorter poem here packs an equal punch for its size. Reply Paul A. Freeman April 17, 2024 You finally got there, Margaret, and it was worth the wait. Snowy Egret I found especially interesting once I delved into the bird’s history. The first two stanza describe beautifully and vividly the habitat of the snowy egret (loved the knobbly-kneed trees), minus the bird. The third stanza completes the picture, introducing the snowy egret, a bird that was once under threat because its ‘breeding plumage’ was popular in women’s hats. I got the feeling your purpose was to highlight what the world would be missing if ladies’ fashion hadn’t changed and if the snowy egret hadn’t become a protected species. I found this a masterpiece of ecological-themed poetry that doesn’t hit you over the head with its message. On to Dusky Seaside Sparrow, which takes on the extinction of an unassuming bird that occurred in a specific location (brilliantly described), we are made aware of what is lost with each passing of a species, no matter how humble. The lines, ‘Your undistinguished squeaky cheeping stirred / In humbly isolated brilliancy’ really focused the reader on the bird’s vulnerability, a bird brought down by food chain contamination with DDT and loss of habitat for the benefit of industry. Thanks for the reads, Margaret. Reply Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 Thanks, Paul, for your continued interest in the topic, which has helped me focus on these creatures that form part of my personal history. The two species here are so different in many ways that, in my opinion, they show how a rational and responsible approach to ecology in public opinion is superior to the rigid response often apparent in activism, legislation, and bureaucracy. The snowy egret has a wide range of habitat, and the danger of killing birds for plumage was recognized early. All available information may not reflect this, but fashion news and women’s clubs helped end demand for plumes. There is now “low concern” for conservation. The most serious problem for the dusky seaside sparrow was its extremely limited range. And it had multiple other issues. I recall weekly DDT spraying of residential areas when I was a small child, and another spray for mosquito control later. Dusky had a strong preference for one grass as shelter and food. There were predator animals. But the biggest stroke of bad luck was the uninhabited north part of Merritt Island being bought for the space program. And no one thought about the danger to the species until too late. As I said above, six males were the only birds left. Hybridization with another sparrow was tried, and produced some offspring, but the tiny bird turned out to be accident prone (at least in captivity). It’s very sad to have a few little corpses as the remains of this species. We do have recordings of the song (high soprano for a sparrow) that I’ve called “squeaky cheeping” in the poem. I need time to find it, but later I may post below a brief, mournful but realistic video discussing the demise of species. Reply Paul A. Freeman April 21, 2024 I’d love to see that video, Margaret. I’m reminded of the Tasmanian tiger, the last surviving specimen filmed pacing its cage in 1935. Of course there are Bigfoot like conspiracy theories that they still exist. Margaret Coats April 24, 2024 Paul, if you didn’t notice already, the video is posted far below. Cynthia Erlandson April 17, 2024 Your talent at description is really illuminated in “Snowy Egret”. Although I don’t recall having seen most of this scenery in real life, I felt as though I were actually seeing what you are describing here. I agree with jd about the imagery of “knobby knees of palm trees”, along with the Spanish moss that flows like hair over them. And I especially love the plumage swirling like incense. I agree with Joseph about the rhyme scheme. In “Dusky Seaside Sparrow”, your description of rivers as “hems that skirt the sea”, and the bird as a “salt-and-pepper harlequin” are wonderful! Reply Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 Thank you, Cynthia! The flora and fauna and landscape or seascape features are all genuine Florida sights from lower level wetlands, though you wouldn’t come across them all in a limited area. I chose some of the most poetic names (“lyreleaf sage”) from the many available, though I felt obliged to include some I don’t like (tickseed is the state wildflower, and endless railroad vines are easy to trip over). I’m so glad Evan found a good close-up of the “salt-and-pepper harlequin”! Reply Alan Orsborn April 17, 2024 These are priceless poems, they are like Audubon prints. The trochaic meter in the first poem is very nicely handled, strong descriptive lines that do not degenerate into singsong. I can smell the fermenting algae in “Leggy roots and finger shoots pry/ Into algal mats fermented.” I agree with what has been written about “frogling.” Two other memorable lines: “Breeding plumage swirls like incense/ White as cloud mist effervescent.” And the very last line, a punch line really, a great white bird as a silhouette. The rhyme scheme in Dusky Seaside Sparrow strongly unifies the poem. I like how you use the Italian Renaissance as parentheses, beginning with painting (chiaroscuro) and ending with commedia dell’arte (harlequin), and in between those the geography around Cape Canaveral. That was a very interesting thing to do. Reply Julian D. Woodruff April 17, 2024 Margaret, A pair of beauties. I may be viewing it too superficially or arbitrarily, but in “Egret,” the wealth of interior rhyme, near-rhyme, and alliteration suggest to me the variety in unity theme applied to the natural world, with the end-rhymes in the 4th and 8th lines of each stanza as an overseeing ordering hand. Reply Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 Julian, you are right about rhyming technique in “Snowy Egret.” The varied kinds of rhyme are easier than perfect end rhyme in trochaic meter, but give a full effect. You will also be interested to know that I was attracted to “The White Peacock” poem (see what I said above to Joseph Salemi) only because it became artistry in the musical sketch by Charles Tomlinson Griffes. With his orchestration, it has genuine interest that the free verse failure lacks. Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 Julian, I think this response to you may post twice, but that seems the best way to release it from cyberspace. You are right about rhyming technique in “Snowy Egret.” The varied kinds of rhyme are easier than perfect end rhyme in trochaic meter, but give a full effect. You will also be interested to know that I was attracted to “The White Peacock” poem (see what I said above to Joseph Salemi) only because it became artistry in the musical sketch by Charles Tomlinson Griffes. With his orchestration, it has genuine interest that the free verse failure lacks. Alan Orsborn April 18, 2024 Re: I thought about this. Dusky Seaside Sparrow, I don’t think that you were using the Italian Renaissance as bookends, you were recapitulating “chiaroscuro” in the first line with “salt-and-pepper harlequin” in the last line. That must be the more correct interpretation, because it is also the more beautiful one. Reply Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 Alan, thank you very much for careful reading and extensive comment. I appreciate the notice of these varied artistic features. Just seeing a snowy egret is a sort of punch, especially when you’ve been searching for a while, so I’m glad you understand the poem’s last line as a punch line. The other poem needed to be short, but precious (as you’ve described both)–a little memorial for an extinct sparrow, as if we didn’t have enough left. The naming features you noted helped dignify the creature, as did the unifying rhyme scheme, and the bit of geography concerning the bird’s minimal territory. I’m glad you found it beautiful. Stephen M. Dickey April 17, 2024 Both are real treats that suck you in from the first line and draw you along. It’s hard to pick out one line out of this finery, but “Breeding plumage swirls like incense” is as rich as the image it conveys. Reply Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 Very glad you enjoyed them, Stephen. It’s nice to know these descriptive pieces are capable of drawing the reader along. Reply Yael April 17, 2024 These are both lovely and educational bird poems, and I enjoyed reading them very much, thank you Margaret. Reply Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 Thank you, Yael. I enjoy reading bird poems, and I’m glad to be able to add to the nest of good ones. Reply Margaret Coats April 20, 2024 Here’s the recommended video, in which the dusky seaside sparrow serves as example in discussing species extinction. It’s 11 minutes long. The filmmaker is not a virtue-signaling woke environmentalist, but a realistic conservationist. Reply Margaret Coats April 20, 2024 Choose the “Watch on YouTube” option to get full screen width. Reply Sally Cook April 23, 2024 Dear Margaret – I love that you care about birds, and that so many other SCP readers and writers do as well. I also am one who sees a similarity between Audubon and your poems. It is a matter of expansiveness; of dignity; of the remarkable variety of the small and easily ignored. I am fortunate to have seen and examined a copy of an original volume. As I turned the 16” x 20″ pages, I felt the richness of the parchment pages; examined Audubon’s brushstrokes. Each page held one or two birds; usually the male and female; sometimes a mother and chick. The man who owned this priceless volume kept it locked in a small room at the foot of the stairs of his very old Victorian house, and only special people were allowed to get anywhere near it. I was convinced that this man was a good person because he valued the Album, and never thought at all that it was the monetary value he so admired. And, in spite of warnings all round, I almost married him ! So, while some might say I was a stupid adolescent, I prefer to believe that birds have power — the power of freedom, beauty and flight. I also think the birds tried their best to save this man from himself but gave up on him long before I did. Reply Margaret Coats April 24, 2024 Sally, thanks for telling more of your love for small creatures like birds. Knowing someone who owned an Audubon surely gave you wonderful opportunities to contemplate a renowned work of art. Birds, even inconspicuous ones like the dusky seaside sparrow, do have dignity and power, as you say, and I’m glad you like these bird poems of mine. Much appreciate your comment. Reply Sally Cook April 25, 2024 Margaret. that dusky seaside sparrow has stolen my heart. On thinking back, I see so many instances in which pattern, shape and repetitions have come to me through birds from God to be used both in my paintings and my poems. Sometimes they became so useful and comfortable I have forgotten their origin; but the truth of it always returns. Thanks for reminding me once again with your marvelous poems. Michael Vanyukov April 24, 2024 I would just drown in all that and forget of everything. Reply Margaret Coats April 24, 2024 Michael, thank you for reading and commenting. I suppose it’s the wetlands environment you would drown in, and I myself can happily leave it to the birds and other beings created for it. Agreed–our roles as men and poets require us to remember many other things when we take time to appreciate nature. Reply Angel L. Villanueva April 25, 2024 Margaret, I enjoyed reading these two beautiful poems. Your vivid description of the snowy egret’s environment—using specific plant and animal names—made it possible for me to see with my mind’s eyes and be there as an observer. Just wonderful! I have to admit, this is my first time learning about the dusky seaside sparrow. How sad that it is now extinct! It’s great to see that it still lives in poetry, such as in your delightful verse about this small songbird. Reply Margaret Coats April 26, 2024 Thank you, Angel, for your appreciation of these works. I’m so glad the numerous details about the environment in the first enabled you to observe the scene and imagine the spectacular bird. I regret that I was less attuned to most birds during my years living near the dusky seaside sparrow. My family drove over its habitat every time we went to the beach, and although I knew the sad story of the passenger pigeon, I could not have thought one species near me would soon be gone forever. It makes me want to be more observant in general, as well as do a bit for conservation. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. Δ This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
Roy Eugene Peterson April 17, 2024 As always, amazing and educational. You brought alive the Snowy Egret environment while challenging us to research species in a seemingly endless stream of unfamiliar names. Your vocabulary and skill in using it is off the charts. “The Dusky Seaside Sparrow” is plucked from obscurity and beautifully placed before us as an object of historical curiosity and sad demise adeptly and sadly concluding with “O salt-and-pepper harlequin unheard.” Reply
Margaret Coats April 18, 2024 Thanks, Roy! The snowy egret is a wonder to catch sight of, which is why the poem mostly speaks of its environment, as background to the stunning surprise. Both birds here existed in the natural milieu of my childhood, and I’m coming back to celebrate the one and lament the other. I may never have seen (and certainly never noticed) a dusky seaside sparrow, but it is sad to know the opportunity has vanished. Glad to have your appreciation of both poems. Reply
jd April 17, 2024 Two enviable poems, Margaret, and a fitting tribute by Mr. Peterson. Love “the knobby knees of palm trees” and Snowy Egrets. We see them once in a while and it always seems a blessing. Reply
Margaret Coats April 18, 2024 Snowy egrets do have a wide range, and I’m glad you’ve been able to see them. The “knobby knees” are a special feature of wetland cypress-type trees; they can produce one or more stumps that each look like a human knee, coming out of a marshy pond near the main tree trunk. Thanks for reading, jd! Reply
C.B. Anderson April 17, 2024 Margaret, you may well be the Audubon of Letters. I much appreciated your attention to the details of the flora in the egret’s habitat and the lesson on taxonomy in the second poem. When it comes to splitters and lumpers, lumping is usually preferred. Reply
Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 C. B., my supreme grade school effort in drawing with colors was a snowy egret picture (the only work of mine framed by my parents). That being lost, I have turned to letters, and thank you for your professional appreciation of floral details. They are less elusive than the bird! Fortunately, that species of heron thrives, unlike the dusky seaside sparrow–lost whatever taxa we use to name it. By the time the last ones were protectively captured, only six males could be found. Reply
Warren Bonham April 17, 2024 This is Audubon plus Webster plus Wordsworth rolled into one. I learned about new animals described in a beautifully poetic manner using words I hadn’t heard before. Very well done with both poems! Reply
Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 Thank you so much, Warren. Poets do have an affinity for birds, though we usually make our mark with one or two kinds. But the Canaveral area where I grew up used to win the yearly Audubon count for number of species sighted on a single day, so I may continue, with encouragement like yours. Reply
Joseph S. Salemi April 17, 2024 The trochaic rhythm of “Snowy Egret” is very effective. It allows for the long list of plants, insects, and fish to move along quickly, and gives emphasis to individual items. I agree with Roy — your vocabulary and skill in using it are off the charts. I also like the interlinked rhyme scheme of the tercets in “Dusky Seaside Sparrow” (ABA, BAB, ABA). “Chiaroscuro stygian-shaded bird” is one helluva line — literally! I will add “frogling’ to my list of –ling diminutives. Reply
Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 Joe, thanks for your many points of appreciation. In “Snowy Egret,” I worked away from an early free verse piece called “The White Peacock,” that was rambling, repetitive, much too long for the matter contained, and without meter. To make a strongly contrasting formal poem, regular trochaic seemed a better choice than iambic. Thus I’m especially glad you find it effective. And knowing that you consider the opening line of “Dusky” one literal “helluva” line makes me feel the shorter poem here packs an equal punch for its size. Reply
Paul A. Freeman April 17, 2024 You finally got there, Margaret, and it was worth the wait. Snowy Egret I found especially interesting once I delved into the bird’s history. The first two stanza describe beautifully and vividly the habitat of the snowy egret (loved the knobbly-kneed trees), minus the bird. The third stanza completes the picture, introducing the snowy egret, a bird that was once under threat because its ‘breeding plumage’ was popular in women’s hats. I got the feeling your purpose was to highlight what the world would be missing if ladies’ fashion hadn’t changed and if the snowy egret hadn’t become a protected species. I found this a masterpiece of ecological-themed poetry that doesn’t hit you over the head with its message. On to Dusky Seaside Sparrow, which takes on the extinction of an unassuming bird that occurred in a specific location (brilliantly described), we are made aware of what is lost with each passing of a species, no matter how humble. The lines, ‘Your undistinguished squeaky cheeping stirred / In humbly isolated brilliancy’ really focused the reader on the bird’s vulnerability, a bird brought down by food chain contamination with DDT and loss of habitat for the benefit of industry. Thanks for the reads, Margaret. Reply
Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 Thanks, Paul, for your continued interest in the topic, which has helped me focus on these creatures that form part of my personal history. The two species here are so different in many ways that, in my opinion, they show how a rational and responsible approach to ecology in public opinion is superior to the rigid response often apparent in activism, legislation, and bureaucracy. The snowy egret has a wide range of habitat, and the danger of killing birds for plumage was recognized early. All available information may not reflect this, but fashion news and women’s clubs helped end demand for plumes. There is now “low concern” for conservation. The most serious problem for the dusky seaside sparrow was its extremely limited range. And it had multiple other issues. I recall weekly DDT spraying of residential areas when I was a small child, and another spray for mosquito control later. Dusky had a strong preference for one grass as shelter and food. There were predator animals. But the biggest stroke of bad luck was the uninhabited north part of Merritt Island being bought for the space program. And no one thought about the danger to the species until too late. As I said above, six males were the only birds left. Hybridization with another sparrow was tried, and produced some offspring, but the tiny bird turned out to be accident prone (at least in captivity). It’s very sad to have a few little corpses as the remains of this species. We do have recordings of the song (high soprano for a sparrow) that I’ve called “squeaky cheeping” in the poem. I need time to find it, but later I may post below a brief, mournful but realistic video discussing the demise of species. Reply
Paul A. Freeman April 21, 2024 I’d love to see that video, Margaret. I’m reminded of the Tasmanian tiger, the last surviving specimen filmed pacing its cage in 1935. Of course there are Bigfoot like conspiracy theories that they still exist.
Cynthia Erlandson April 17, 2024 Your talent at description is really illuminated in “Snowy Egret”. Although I don’t recall having seen most of this scenery in real life, I felt as though I were actually seeing what you are describing here. I agree with jd about the imagery of “knobby knees of palm trees”, along with the Spanish moss that flows like hair over them. And I especially love the plumage swirling like incense. I agree with Joseph about the rhyme scheme. In “Dusky Seaside Sparrow”, your description of rivers as “hems that skirt the sea”, and the bird as a “salt-and-pepper harlequin” are wonderful! Reply
Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 Thank you, Cynthia! The flora and fauna and landscape or seascape features are all genuine Florida sights from lower level wetlands, though you wouldn’t come across them all in a limited area. I chose some of the most poetic names (“lyreleaf sage”) from the many available, though I felt obliged to include some I don’t like (tickseed is the state wildflower, and endless railroad vines are easy to trip over). I’m so glad Evan found a good close-up of the “salt-and-pepper harlequin”! Reply
Alan Orsborn April 17, 2024 These are priceless poems, they are like Audubon prints. The trochaic meter in the first poem is very nicely handled, strong descriptive lines that do not degenerate into singsong. I can smell the fermenting algae in “Leggy roots and finger shoots pry/ Into algal mats fermented.” I agree with what has been written about “frogling.” Two other memorable lines: “Breeding plumage swirls like incense/ White as cloud mist effervescent.” And the very last line, a punch line really, a great white bird as a silhouette. The rhyme scheme in Dusky Seaside Sparrow strongly unifies the poem. I like how you use the Italian Renaissance as parentheses, beginning with painting (chiaroscuro) and ending with commedia dell’arte (harlequin), and in between those the geography around Cape Canaveral. That was a very interesting thing to do. Reply
Julian D. Woodruff April 17, 2024 Margaret, A pair of beauties. I may be viewing it too superficially or arbitrarily, but in “Egret,” the wealth of interior rhyme, near-rhyme, and alliteration suggest to me the variety in unity theme applied to the natural world, with the end-rhymes in the 4th and 8th lines of each stanza as an overseeing ordering hand. Reply
Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 Julian, you are right about rhyming technique in “Snowy Egret.” The varied kinds of rhyme are easier than perfect end rhyme in trochaic meter, but give a full effect. You will also be interested to know that I was attracted to “The White Peacock” poem (see what I said above to Joseph Salemi) only because it became artistry in the musical sketch by Charles Tomlinson Griffes. With his orchestration, it has genuine interest that the free verse failure lacks.
Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 Julian, I think this response to you may post twice, but that seems the best way to release it from cyberspace. You are right about rhyming technique in “Snowy Egret.” The varied kinds of rhyme are easier than perfect end rhyme in trochaic meter, but give a full effect. You will also be interested to know that I was attracted to “The White Peacock” poem (see what I said above to Joseph Salemi) only because it became artistry in the musical sketch by Charles Tomlinson Griffes. With his orchestration, it has genuine interest that the free verse failure lacks.
Alan Orsborn April 18, 2024 Re: I thought about this. Dusky Seaside Sparrow, I don’t think that you were using the Italian Renaissance as bookends, you were recapitulating “chiaroscuro” in the first line with “salt-and-pepper harlequin” in the last line. That must be the more correct interpretation, because it is also the more beautiful one. Reply
Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 Alan, thank you very much for careful reading and extensive comment. I appreciate the notice of these varied artistic features. Just seeing a snowy egret is a sort of punch, especially when you’ve been searching for a while, so I’m glad you understand the poem’s last line as a punch line. The other poem needed to be short, but precious (as you’ve described both)–a little memorial for an extinct sparrow, as if we didn’t have enough left. The naming features you noted helped dignify the creature, as did the unifying rhyme scheme, and the bit of geography concerning the bird’s minimal territory. I’m glad you found it beautiful.
Stephen M. Dickey April 17, 2024 Both are real treats that suck you in from the first line and draw you along. It’s hard to pick out one line out of this finery, but “Breeding plumage swirls like incense” is as rich as the image it conveys. Reply
Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 Very glad you enjoyed them, Stephen. It’s nice to know these descriptive pieces are capable of drawing the reader along. Reply
Yael April 17, 2024 These are both lovely and educational bird poems, and I enjoyed reading them very much, thank you Margaret. Reply
Margaret Coats April 19, 2024 Thank you, Yael. I enjoy reading bird poems, and I’m glad to be able to add to the nest of good ones. Reply
Margaret Coats April 20, 2024 Here’s the recommended video, in which the dusky seaside sparrow serves as example in discussing species extinction. It’s 11 minutes long. The filmmaker is not a virtue-signaling woke environmentalist, but a realistic conservationist. Reply
Sally Cook April 23, 2024 Dear Margaret – I love that you care about birds, and that so many other SCP readers and writers do as well. I also am one who sees a similarity between Audubon and your poems. It is a matter of expansiveness; of dignity; of the remarkable variety of the small and easily ignored. I am fortunate to have seen and examined a copy of an original volume. As I turned the 16” x 20″ pages, I felt the richness of the parchment pages; examined Audubon’s brushstrokes. Each page held one or two birds; usually the male and female; sometimes a mother and chick. The man who owned this priceless volume kept it locked in a small room at the foot of the stairs of his very old Victorian house, and only special people were allowed to get anywhere near it. I was convinced that this man was a good person because he valued the Album, and never thought at all that it was the monetary value he so admired. And, in spite of warnings all round, I almost married him ! So, while some might say I was a stupid adolescent, I prefer to believe that birds have power — the power of freedom, beauty and flight. I also think the birds tried their best to save this man from himself but gave up on him long before I did. Reply
Margaret Coats April 24, 2024 Sally, thanks for telling more of your love for small creatures like birds. Knowing someone who owned an Audubon surely gave you wonderful opportunities to contemplate a renowned work of art. Birds, even inconspicuous ones like the dusky seaside sparrow, do have dignity and power, as you say, and I’m glad you like these bird poems of mine. Much appreciate your comment. Reply
Sally Cook April 25, 2024 Margaret. that dusky seaside sparrow has stolen my heart. On thinking back, I see so many instances in which pattern, shape and repetitions have come to me through birds from God to be used both in my paintings and my poems. Sometimes they became so useful and comfortable I have forgotten their origin; but the truth of it always returns. Thanks for reminding me once again with your marvelous poems.
Margaret Coats April 24, 2024 Michael, thank you for reading and commenting. I suppose it’s the wetlands environment you would drown in, and I myself can happily leave it to the birds and other beings created for it. Agreed–our roles as men and poets require us to remember many other things when we take time to appreciate nature. Reply
Angel L. Villanueva April 25, 2024 Margaret, I enjoyed reading these two beautiful poems. Your vivid description of the snowy egret’s environment—using specific plant and animal names—made it possible for me to see with my mind’s eyes and be there as an observer. Just wonderful! I have to admit, this is my first time learning about the dusky seaside sparrow. How sad that it is now extinct! It’s great to see that it still lives in poetry, such as in your delightful verse about this small songbird. Reply
Margaret Coats April 26, 2024 Thank you, Angel, for your appreciation of these works. I’m so glad the numerous details about the environment in the first enabled you to observe the scene and imagine the spectacular bird. I regret that I was less attuned to most birds during my years living near the dusky seaside sparrow. My family drove over its habitat every time we went to the beach, and although I knew the sad story of the passenger pigeon, I could not have thought one species near me would soon be gone forever. It makes me want to be more observant in general, as well as do a bit for conservation. Reply