driving to arrive
at the jasper-pulaski wildlife area
an hour before dusk
on a mid-november day
crisp with a cold edge
of crusted frost
that snuck under our skin
to feed on our bones
the whole way thinking
they may not be there
glancing out the window
every which way
trying to glimpse something
even as we turned
into the parking lot
with the observation tower
in the distance—
and there
in that moment the sky seemed
startled as it split open
with flock after flock
of cranes flying in formation
gliding out of broken clouds
circling the marshes before cupping
their massive wings into parachutes
to drop to the grasses
where they remained
for some time in the chorus
of their calls until launching
forth again
wave after wave
a short rise then fall
beyond a tall
wall of trees
off limits to us in the final moments
before dusk fell fully into night
never did I witness
their morning ritual
with dawn casting its
eerie glow over
the wooded plains
but somehow
i still see
10,000 birds rise with the mist
and pummel the air
into concussed sound
amidst the glorious cacophony
of their haunting calls
as they swarm through an atmosphere
now teeming with a glimpse
of what Earth
once was
is
and may still be
in the deep
time
of
tomorrow