Ivory-billed woodpecker

Here it is almost 5 PM.

I have yet to write

The morning reflection.

I take comfort in the fact

It is morning somewhere

Even if not here.

Somewhere on the other side of the world,

It is 5 AM.

I wonder,

When everything falls in line,

The way I always imagined it would,

If I will have to awaken

At 4 A.M.

To do this

Or whether writing will go the way

Of the dodo,

Or the passenger pigeon

Or perhaps hide

Like the ivory-billed woodpecker

In the Cache River refuge

In Arkansas.

I wonder if it will still pop up

From time to time.