They came en masse
   darkening the already graying sky
a thousand cranes
   two thousand three   four   five
calling to their mates
   gliding to rest where cornfield meets river
Leopold’s shack in the background
   a long day behind them

I have come to bear witness
   witness to the tenacity of a beating heart
huddled in my faded brown barn coat
   hands deep in pockets
I stand in awe
   blend in we were told   wear well-worn
but I know my place here
   even hot pink could serve as my camouflage

The sweepers coast in   long necks extended
   wings resting on air    encouraging stragglers
hearkening back to a distant time
   when long-necked dinosaurs explored this shore
a comeback these cranes an override to our heavy footprint
not the passenger pigeon, the white pine forest
   the sandhill settles amidst the stubble   rebounded

I shift my stance
   reach for my phone and pull instead
a bit of crumpled fabric from my pocket
   a face mask forgotten these two-plus years
a hold over from our own precarious time
   the untethered isolation the worrying free fall
this mask an unwelcome reminder of a life
   lacking purpose    my life on hold

From the edge of the field sentinel cranes call
   quieting the flock to purposeful rest
I turn
   pocket the mask   begin the trek to my car
enough of sideline adventures, of blending in
   time to trade this barn coat for a red ski jacket
rebound like the cranes with the strength of a wingbeat
   bear witness to the tenacity of our collective heart

Photo Credit: Brian Forsyth, Pexels