Nature Poem by Ronald Shields

I do not understand nature.
Cannot not match bird to song,
leaf to tree, petal to flower.
Too much learned at arm's length
the secondhand story that comes
from the TV or movies.
Out among the birdsong in all
its seasons I am confused,
out of my element, feigning
disinterest, not knowing where
to start. Reading poems about
milkweed, poppies, or a thing
as lovely as a tree does
somewhat perhaps fill the gaps,
or leave me empty
-for what have I missed?
What will I never know?