Bird of the Bayou

I went home the other day,
walked paths full of memories,
relived in my mind the many nature walks
down this boardwalk: the ripple of the creek,
the wind in oaks, cypress, pine, and vines,
birdsong and squirrel-chatter, the buzzing of dragonflies and bees.
Building in the distance, a rumble of unnatural thunder
slowly makes its way towards me. My eyes dart upwards instantly
towards the clear blue sky eternities above me, searching for the
cause of this beautiful disruption. Before I can see it, I
feel the thunder in my chest reverberating against my ribs,
quickening my heart to keep up with the excitement inside.
Every muscle, bone, and cavity rattles, pushed by the
waves of thunderous sound.
And there, just above the trees I see it, the man-made
bird with his song of thunderous protection,
the bird I missed the most: the bird of the Bayou.