For Some Reason

Denny Caldwell

Under the eave
a seed-filled bag sways,
pushed by the cold winter breeze.
A flock of Goldfinches bursts
through blowing snow and clings,
hungry and desperate,
to the pendulous bag of thistle.

The finches, no longer gold,
have turned, somehow,
summer yellow and black to brown.
They bob heads to the feeder,
for some reason, look about,
flutter wings, and bob again.
One waits in the breeze
grasping the crooked wire above,
wind ruffling its feathers
waiting for room in the feeding crowd.

It could have stayed,
but the flock disappears
as quickly as it had arrived,
for some reason,
speeding into the blowing snow again.
The one waiting on the crooked hang-wire
has vanished, too.


Denny Caldwell has been a laborer, factory worker, soldier, pilot, mechanic, firefighter, researcher, historian, and anti-war activist. Born and raised in southeastern Michigan, he finally arrived in New England to his heart’s home when Eastern Airlines sent him to Boston in 1987. He has been a technical aviation writer, and is currently working on memoirs, aviation history, historical fiction, and poetry. Denny lives in Hancock, New Hampshire with his wife Deborah and their two cats.