Twenty Goldfinches in a Willow Tree

A goldfinch in a tree, image courtesy of  pixabay

A goldfinch in a tree, image courtesy of pixabay

Last updated June 4, 2018

Years ago, I awoke to a chorus of goldfinches feasting on carob trees in the courtyard of my apartment complex. Thankfully, it is possible for cities to host habitats for birds. And I will never forget that magical spring morning, although now I hear entirely different sounds. So I guess I'll be moving along soon.

When will it end?

not a swoosh

or a whir,

but a high-pitched roar;

like the etching of glass,

the hum of a smoother, 

as it cuts across wood.


Rubber grinds against cement.


But all I want is a symphony:

twenty goldfinches singing in a willow;

the echoes of children,

who would not remain

under the tyranny of four walls;

the rhythmic clicking of blinds

blown by the whispering breeze 

that calls me to stay:

"Linger a while longer;

bask in the rapture of spring."


By Laura Routh, 2018