_TURDUS_MIGRATORIUS_ COMES TO THE ARCTIC
            by Tom Gannon
                c. 6/02
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                There is no word in Inuit for "robin."
                    --radio newscast, 6/3/02

"cheerup, cheerily, cheerup, cheerily,"
our good old suburb friend the redbreast sings--
but this year whistles further north
than ever before:

	odd elf among the seals and polar bears,
	round belly stained as if by the crushed fruits
	of the tropical climes it came from . . . "what the hell?"
	the locals wonder, and look again, and scratch their heads

there is no word in Inuit for "robin"--
or global warming, for that matter, or petroleum slicks;
but old stories of cataclysmic endings
are still well known to the people there

"cheerup, cheerily--"
(at least that's what we always thought it said,
always the optimists in believing
the rest of the earth was happy having us around)


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