What’s the buzz and the click?
My song of course,
though no one but I have ever tried to sing it.
I’m no Nightingale that got an ode,
or a Robin welcoming spring
back into the world, singing “Cheery up,”
or even the insistently perky
Chickadees you welcome to your feeders.

No, I am inconspicuous, hurrying
through the saltmarsh like a mouse,
easy to miss, but look where I live.
My world is underwater more often every year,
and I retreat with the soft green grass
until, backs to the wall, we both vanish.

So try to hear me while you can —
before all you have to listen to
is the sound of rising water
and the hopeless cries of the gulls
that no one would call a song.