“What is this weather in my soul?
This nameless weather:
Squirrel’s flag-tail pulsating
A silent, nil day.
Exceptional drought……
memory’s ceaseless loop roils;
turkey vultures soar.
“What is this weather in my soul?
This nameless weather:
Squirrel’s flag-tail pulsating
A silent, nil day.
Exceptional drought……
memory’s ceaseless loop roils;
turkey vultures soar.
Spiraling upward
un-touching entwination
in flittering flight
nothing to repent
they cherish what is given
synched as wind and chime
Grackle
Brazen hundreds flaunt
their stuff, screaming their presence;
conquering the trees.
•
Bluejay
Unsympathetic;
reigning, brassy-blue diva
of the canopy.
•
Bluebird
The blue of God’s eyes;
with cheek-blushed breast, you flutter
in your dainty bath.
•
Crow
Black hole against soft
sky blue as boy-baby blue;
harsh as a night scream.
•
Mourning Dove
Flushed from brush in twos;
rattling chortles of wings lift
them to lowest limbs.
They call in soft glee.
Mistaken for sad laments,
their calls haunt our days.
Skeptical of bliss;
we refuse to hear pure joy
of a gleeful heart.