The old Loon’s yodel, lonely flies
Across last season’s thawing lake;
Fee-bee, the Chickadee replies.
In cove, over moss nest, he sighs,
His hopes a raccoon’s to unmake.
The old Loon’s yodel, lonely flies.
His water double doubly lies:
A ruined bird—nature’s mistake.
Fee-bee, the Chickadee replies.
But look—a female loon he spies!
This chance one he will not forsake.
The old Loon’s yodel, lonely flies.
For her, the ancient rites he tries,
A hymn to make the waters quake!
Fee-bee, the Chickadee replies.
Too late, too soon, his moment dies:
A rival comes his loon to take.
The old Loon’s yodel, lonely flies;
Fee-bee, the Chickadee replies.
(2024, rev. 2025)
