Meadowlark by Kelsey Pearl
~for Toledo, Ohio
Drained, dried, and deserted is the marsh,
Cattails cracking to concrete,
Lilies left to lament.
Old plumbing-pipes line the roads, a few brass statues
And park bench placards all that hint
At the stolen majesty here.
These, of course, and meadowlark.
Sweet, songful meadowlark.
He flits across this newly black expanse
Of Meijer’s parking lot,
Still stinking of fresh asphalt,
Still sticky on his claws.
He picks through the edge-weeds
Now thin,
And knows in his hollow bones
That he should not be here.
This is the egret’s grass,
The great blue heron,
The kingfisher.
Perch and flathead scales should flash
Where needle litter does now.
On the breeze,
Cottonwood should fall like summer snow.
The mayflies should speck the sky
And cicadas should sing the swamp to sleep.
“Can’t you see?” calls meadowlark,
Chirping away at a man
Who ashes a cigarette on the curb.
“Can’t you see what you’ve done?
Where have the frogs gone?
Where will the tadpoles go?”
He chirps and chatters until the man
Sweeps his wide coat sleeve across the air,
Startling poor meadowlark away.
This is the work of men,
Startling. Draining. Drying.
Sapping at the sugar maples,
Mowing the moss,
Killing the kingfisher.
And there is nothing a sweet, songful meadowlark
Can do,
But chirp and pick at what’s left
Of the edge-weeds.
Stolen majesty.
Kelsey Pearl is a biology major at Eastern Kentucky University, minoring in Spanish and chemistry. She has published poetry, photography, news articles, and many well-received Instagram posts.
With her art, she hopes to eliminate boredom and foster an atmosphere
of home.