The Birderman

Most weekends, starting in the spring

Until late summer, I spend angling.

Not for fish. I find that far too tame

But for birds, a much more interesting game.

A juicy worm I use as bait

Cast a line into the tree and wait.

Seldom for long (that’s half the fun)

A commotion in the leaves, the job’s half done.

Pull hard, jerk home the hook

Then reel him in. Let’s have a look…

A tiny thing, a fledgling, young enough to spare.

I show mercy. Unhook, and toss it to the air.

It flies nestwards and disappears among the leaves

(What man roasts and braises, he too reprieves).

What next? A magpie. Note the splendid tail.

I wring its neck. Though stringy, it’ll pass for quail.

Unlike water, the depths of trees are high

So, standing back, I cast into the sky.

And ledger there beyond the topmost bough,

Until threshing down, like a black cape, screams a crow!

Evil creature! A witch in feathered form.

I try to net the dark, encircling storm.

It caws for help. Its cronies gather round

They curse and swoop. I hold my ground.

An infernal mass, a black, horrific army

I’ll not succumb to Satan’s origami.

I reach into my coat, I’ve come prepared,

Bring out my pocket scarecrow – Watch out bird!

It’s cross-shaped, the sign the godless fear

In a thunderflap of wings they disappear.

Except of course, that one, ungainly kite

Broken now, and quickly losing height.

I haul it in, and with a single blow

Dispatch it to that Aviary below.

The ebb and flow: magpie, thrush, nightingale and crow.

The wood darkens. Time to go.

I pack away the food I’ve caught

And thankful for a good day’s sport

Amble home. The forest fisherman.

And I’ll return as soon as I can

To bird. For I’m a birderer. The birderman.