My husband's poetry

Category: Birds

  • Don’t listen with your eyes

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in

    blue jay swoops wide-spread tail and wings white tips and black accents breaks its flight nestles on green limb opens its mouth and squawks nuthatch flits hops about the trunk of trees squeaks and sings in descants mockingbird role plays aggressively guards its space sings whatever the hell it pleases of the three I much…

  • Autumn

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    through falling leaves you stand alone I would say hello but I am afraid I may startle you so I stand alone hoping you don’t see me through falling leaves 11-1-25

  • Murder she wrote

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    Gloomy overcast morning, you daydream Angela Langsbury walking her dog in the park across the street. She calls out and waves. You call back frantically you are too young to die and to stay on her side of the street. As she walks away; you call out, “…and don’t forget to scoop,” rise from your…

  • Dog chases tail

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    9 am on a November Sunday feels like 10 am Daylight Savings Time hibernates for the winter 25 hour day and I still can’t catch my tail 11-6-22

  • haiku for Mondays

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    squirrel falls from tree plop…gets up and runs away climbs the tree, again 11-7-22

  • umbrella haikus

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    rain in the forecast umbrella skies, muddy shoes and long summer naps summer rain rattles leaves in trees, gutters and drains thunder shakes the sky tree frogs unafraid of heavy rain and lightning celebrate the storm 8-5-25

  • haiku for a sunny day

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    dappled shadows dance back and forth like sandpipers dance before the sea 7-24-25

  • Waiting

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , , , ,

    beyond the door of our house I sit in the shade on my right a small table, a bottle of water, a notebook, a book of poetry, a book of prayers bright green moss cushions my feet birds call from the woods the Tourettes hum of distant traffic palms turned skyward I’m waiting for healing…

  • Afternoon rain

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    Afternoon rain I dreamed of uprooted trees drifting like dirigibles across the sky birds fly in and out of leaves. After the rain I walked in the park the moss is bright green only birds and a lone cicada sang. 7-13-25

  • Aviary hymns

    —

    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    What is gone is not quite gone It lingers in the air ____ I’m searching for that first bird song Its memory somewhere deep inside Other birds sing in gardens But it’s never quite the same I’m searching for that first bird song Its memory somewhere deep inside ____ What is gone is not quite…