The Whooping Crane
At sunset from the shadowed sedge
Of lonely lake, among the reeds,
He lifts his brazen-throated call,
And the listening cat with teeth at edge
With famine hears and heeds.
“Come one, come all, come all, come all!”
Is the bird’s challenge bravely blown
To every beast the woodlands own.
“My legs are long, my wings are strong,
I wait the answer to my threat.”
Echoing, fearless, triumphant, the cry
Disperses through the world, and yet
Only the clamorous, cloudless sky
And the wooded mountains make reply.