My screensaver is an owl
super-realistic,
tiny, speckled white on medium brown,
translucent rose gold talons
gripping soft, luminous, yellow green moss,
yellow-rimmed black pupils
staring
into the camera,
eyeshine reflecting the blue sky
on that day the photographer
laid in a belly-flop for endless hours
to
click
one
perfect
shot.
But I
have seen
real
owls
risen
inexplicably
from the dust
of backroads.
They are
silent
spectral
sentinels
of dusk,
soft shadows
noiselessly
effortlessly
mysteriously
rising on humid air
just before
you
blindly
step
on
one.
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The embroidered strip of felt and the accordion book of my flower photos to be continued during week 4, making it easy to grab 5 minutes a d... -
I winter trees bending down under heavy snow branches becoming roots II do spring birds nest beneath the snow waiting to burst into flight w...
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