winter mist
the scarecrow’s heart
a nesting sparrow
Tag: birds
Five minutes before the alarm — birdsong, birdsong.
Hidden by the fog,
mockingbirds and wrens sing maps
outlining the trees.
sunrise—
all at once
birds leap from the water
mockingbird an octave shy of the moon
a solitary bird calls to the space between lightning and thunder
towpath—
a blue heron shifts
the twilight
s
d
r
i
b
recession rising from the factory stacks five small black
sunrise
from village to village
a rooster’s crow
migrating geese
rising
out of my chair
dusk—
ten thousand blackbirds
and no place to park
in the pool
of the ruined resort
the wild ducks
park bench
pigeons begging
the homeless man
dead birds at the base
of the lit skyscraper
autumn midnight
juncos black
silhouettes in birch trees
notes on a tangled clef
owl’s call sounding the depth of a winter night
snowmelt…
a woodpecker thrums
into thin sun
winterlight
a blur of birdsong
in the air
drizzle and mud—
sparrows sinking deeper
into drab
up to the summit up to a hawk’s cry up to the sun
waiting for the sheep to pass a skylark's song
a swallowtail
touches my fingertips—
warrior pose
perched
at the tip
of summer
red-winged
blackbird
in the park
pigeons peck in front of
empty benches
flurries of willow fluff
seven ducklings scatter
among the reeds
how casually
a brown bird
catches a butterfly
in its beak
and flies away
it happens every year
but still
the woods filled with birdsong
the skip of a skipping stone alpine swifts
Grey dawn
climbs the sky
bird over bird.
where creek willows weave the sunlight ducklings
migrating geese—
wind flaps the scarecrow’s
empty sleeves
how do they manage
migrating geese taking only
their shadows