Birds in Cemeteries
by George Kalogeris
(published in NOR 11, Spring 2012)
It must be the shade that draws them. Or else the grass.
And it seems they always alight away from their flocks,
Alone. It’s so quiet here you can’t help but hear
Their talons clink as they hop from headstone to headstone.
Their sharp, inquisitive beaks cast quizzical glances.
The lawn is mown. The gate is always open.
The names engraved on the stones, and the uplifting words
Below the names, are lapidary as ever.
But almost never even a chirp from the birds,
Let alone a wild shriek, as they perch on a tomb.
And then they fly away, looking as if
They couldn’t remember why it was they came—
But were doing what our souls are supposed to do
On the day we die, if the birds could read the words.
I love all of the images in this poem, and I especially love how the poet attempts to make something of birds in cemeteries. At first, the reasons are commonplace--shade, grass.
Then, however, he suggests there may be something more. The birds, as if honoring the dead, make no noise as they hop about. Then Kalogeris anthropomorphizes more: the birds, looking confused, leave.
The poet then brings humans in completely. The poem has moved from animal to human, while always imagining both simultaneously. But the end belongs to us humans, while also reminding us (or forcing us to return to) what was written in the fourth stanza.
Is it advice? A warning? A wish? On the day that we die, we should all be as wonderful as the "uplifting words" that will adorn our gravestones. And since we don't know when we will die, we should be that good every day.
Birds being messengers is a common trope, but here it is their silence that creates an understanding in the poet.
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