This is a poem I did for class in the 6th grade. I did the collage art myself. Willow, the dog mentioned in the poem, died in an apartment fire on Marks Road two days ago.
Festival of Birds
by Peter Hartwell
Fifteen turkey vultures flying low.
Sea gulls and herons feating slow.
The shore was littered with
Silvery dead fish. Alewives.
My mother went down to the shore
to see what the fuss was about.
Willow the dog, out with her owner,
picked up a fish and brought it to her
and dropped it at her feet.
The fish were Alewives,
fish that didn't belong.
They had died during the winter
and now were all washed up,
a silver tide of dead fish.
The heron in the creek
was the last to leave. He was
still scavenging for bits of fish.
Many months after that,
there were still remains of
the bird festival to be found
in the bushes and reeds.