The following interesting poem was sent to me by a friend. The true author,
I assume, is the person listed below.





ARTHUR R. POUTRAY, 124 Long Pasture Way Tiverton, Rhode Island 02878



THE BIRDER



He showed this lengthy list to me.

Of birds he'd almost seen, you see .

He almost saw some Vireos,

When someone cried, "Oh! There he goes!"

He would have seen a Bufflehead,

But, "Oh, too late! She's gone," they said



And so he put them on his list,

Of birds that he had barely missed.

They formed at dawn to view the Wren."

He heard taut whispers: "Gone again!"



"Ah," they said, "A Piping Plover!"

Where'?," said he.. They: Just flew over."

"Hush!," they said, "Two white Egrets."

He snapped a twig, and so regrets. .."



They went upon his growing list,

Of birds that he had barely missed.

In mud he stalked the giant Osprey,

Just to hear: "He just went. that way.. "



Cramped at lakeside in the dew

He heard through mists: "That was a Smew! "

Slapping bugs and close to tears

He missed the "...biggest Coot in years"'

...on the list.

..barely missed .



They all so hoped he'd take up stars

Or turn in his binoculars .



But, he kept adding to his list

Of birds that he had barely missed.

One day the end came in the mail.

And, as he read, his face grew pale



The Audubon sent back his dues .

And asked him not to come next Tues .

Stamped VOID upon his bird Lifelist,

Blank, except for birds he'd missed .



So, he is now collecting books . .

And birds are everywhere he looks.



Hugh Jennings
Bellevue, WA
hughbirder at bigzoo.net