Category: Birds
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After the rain
After the rain you gather lost worms stranded on concrete and throw them in the grass so they may live another day. You have things to do and walk past many more that you do not save and feel guilty abandoning them to die in the hot sun. 5-19-23
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After the rain
After the rain you gather lost worms stranded on concrete and throw them in the grass so they may live another day. You have things to do and walk past many more that you do not save and feel guilty abandoning them to die in the hot sun. 5-19-23
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Sip the morning dry
Like a ship coming to harbor, bullfrog calls out from weeds, I’m here, I’m here, I’m here. Before heat chases dawn away, I watch day shadows shorten, ask the Creator to refine my character, inhale the last fragrance of warm tea from the bottom of my cup and sip the morning dry. 5-11-23
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Haiku before the rain
duck glides calmly by serenity is not free webbed feet churn below 5-6-23
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Meditating in Nature During Baseball Season
Deep in the woods red bird calls or maybe it’s a mockingbird that likes the way those notes roll off its tongue or maybe its envious of bright feathers and hates Cubs baseball. If this is cultural appropriation, you do not care. You only know it feels good in your ear and winning is a…
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Meditation on a duck
deep blue glow of sunlight on your green cap looks good on you tucking your neck into your chest protection against early morning chill you ignore my compliment and drift from sunlight to shadow and back again 5-3-23
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Playing possum
at a roadside grille two turkey buzzards dine on possum meat quibble over who gets the last eyeball hors d’oeuvre sometimes when you stare into headlights fall down to play dead the oncoming car refuses to play you end up an entree at a roadside grille where two old buzzards quarrel like family at a…
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Morning meander
I walk on the paved path through the park; sit on a bench in need of paint; watch three squirrels race through last year’s leaves, chase each other up a tree, leap from limb to limb, chattering endlessly. Why I do not know. 5-1-23
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Saturday pre-dawn haiku
low croaks and high trills pond awaits sun’s reflection bull and tree frogs sing 4-29-23