by Ethel Mortenson Davis

The unfurrowing
of new leaves
is like a carefully
synchronized orchestra
with each musician
in exact harmony.
But we do not stand
and applaud.
Only Oriole gets up
and sings his splendid song,
dressed in brightly colored


Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry

7 responses to “Unfurrowing

  1. I confess I don’t know what an oriole looks or sounds like; we’re not (as far as I know) blessed with his presence here in the UK. But your poem brings him and his ‘splendid song’ vividly to life for me, and is a bright light in a dark day. Thank you, Ethel.

  2. A fine performance. And gratis too! 🙂

  3. Wish we had Orioles here in the northwest. Your poem is delightful, Ethel.

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