Shortest Days

drifting flakes           blow across

rime and mist          ice and frost

               finches flutter

              cold mice glean

   feral cat with grey-eyed gleam

Red-Tailed Hawk

red-tailed hawk

laps through air

to earth



landing

abstracts her form

no longer bird

whirling

but a

shifting mound

of leaves



denying prey

recognition

Heron

Okay

so I nearly stepped on him

at least as close to

stepping on him as

I could walk on water

and he flew up

pteranadon wings wide

wider than my height

higher he flew to the far side

of the swamp

to become a stump

or indiscernible from one

but I made him out

from his plant partner

and was camera ready

until a mom-dad-bike-baby-cart

came bumping along

and sent his laboring wings through the humid air far far away again

now become

                                              a

                                          treetop

                                           finial

                                            still

                                            and

                                           silver

                                              in

                                             the

                                          sunlight.

You have exceeded . . .

expectations

wildest
dreams

common sense

personal safety                                                                               

the limits
of propriety

the boundaries
of good taste

the balance
of your account

your
available funds

the time . . .

the speed . . .

your word
. . .

                      limit

your ch

               ar

                    a

                        c

                       t

                          e

                      r

                       count

our patience,

dear poet.

Driving

me around curving

squirrel across darting

both

stop

his fleet form pointing

a flowery blue thanking 

as he sprang away

Mobbing

The hawks and crows

are at war again, sure,

all winter those crows

cackled, raising hawks’ hackles,

hawks perched so solemnly

on barren branches hung with ice,

then finally shrugging off the crows to fly free.

But now it’s spring,

and those neighbors can’t bear

the sight of each other nor share

their skies:

reeling and squealing,

squawking and screaming,

sailing over wide water,

skimming brooks and streams,

clipping close to treetops,

diving for cover.

The winter dress rehearsal

is now the real deal,

no hawks will prey

on crow young today.

Yellow

All night the Daffodils

gape open-mouthed

in a silent howl

at the cold moon.



All night the Cowslips

defy icy water at their roots

and outstretch yellow rays

like miniature midnight suns.

 

But the bashful Coltsfoot

sheltered in the shade,

even in the light of day,

demurely folds its petals at night.

misconception

a plane's motor buzzes

overhead - i look up to see

a hawk escape the trees

Slow Recognition

shadow and darkness,

shapeless to shape,

stillness within the warm wind,

awakening roadside,

meditating lakeside,

Buddha-calm bullfrog.

Walking with Robert Frost

“Something
there is that doesn’t love a wall. . .” 

- Robert Frost "Mending Wall"

 

Yes,
I’ve seen your stone wall before

but
reclusive neighbors don’t still stoop

to
heave the heavy rocks back into place

then
regress to silence for another year.

Patiently
lying askew in the grass

the
stones gather velvet green moss,

lemon
yellow lichen, nibbled acorns,

and
moist black compost in every hollow.

They
host sunset-red spotted efts,

translucent
grey-gilled mushrooms,

shiny
brown sow bugs and pink worms,

and
comical chipmunks popping out and in.

Sparrows
stop by to hop and forage,

ants
race away unwilling to be lunch,

and fireflies
doze in warm speckles of sun

before
carrying its glow into the night.

You
gave your neighbor words:

“Good fences make good neighbors”

seems
to me, my solemn friend,

that
bad fences made better neighbors.