Two Hawks
Crisscrossed
Above my Head
Little Robin
Giving chase
Screaming with dread!
“Why is it
You are crying
My darling little hen?”
“THE FALCONS TOOK
MY SLEEPING CHICK RIGHT
OUT OF OUR LITTLE DEN!”
Category: Bird Song
Osprey
Osprey
Soaring
so
High
Osprey
Osprey
Preying
with
Eyes
Set
so
Sharp
as
to
See
Small
Movements
Only
the
Lucky
Will
Escape
This
Moment
“Drip
Drip”
Says
the Grackle
“Drip
Drip”
Black
Birds
in
the
Meadow
Morning
Crackles
“Drip
Drip”
Sounds
the
Splash
of
the
Rain
Black
Birds
Songs
Sing
Rain
Drops
on the
Range
Categories
Robin in the road
Robin, Robin
In the road
Why do you appear
Everywhere I go?
Are you my bird?
My spirit animal?
I go by Peregrine
Yet, there you are.
A family or two live in
The trees in my yard.
But, there you are
Even when I leave
And head out into the
Woods to retreat
You are there
In the road being
Pleasant company and
My constant companion.
Every night I hear your chatter
As you call all your family in
So I too go as I get called
To dinner, as mama makes sure
To count them all (1,2,3,4)
A visitor sat in
The Golden Rain Tree
Sitting and awaiting
Still and patiently
Usually, the Finches
And busy bobbing
Their red heads
But today if they
Come to visit
They may end up
Quite dead.
One last hoorah
Before The Spirit of Summer
Succumbs to the seriousness
Of Education and Work
That signals the American
Tradition of Fall
That seems to come earlier
And earlier each year
As administrative minds
Decide for the masses
That the excess of
Time and energy is the
Corruption of Mind and Learning —
So into the woods we’ve run
With cedar and river
And Freedom and Fun
To learn the bird’s songs
One last time and throw
Our poles to lure one last
Meal from the waters
The lessons of the wild
Provide the mild mind
With relaxation and realization
That a simpler life may be
Required to grasp the enlightenment
That a generation sought there
Generations back as they fought
To find what lacked in their daily life.
Categories
The chase is on
The Blackbirds chase the Raven
Three or four at a time
They push him away
From their demesne.
Keep their eggs safe and sound
“Chuck, chuck, chip, chip”
These Blackbirds sing
“That charred crow is back
For our nest he is looking
Away, Away, Away” we follow him
up into the sky
“Go back, Go back
From Where you came
And stay away, stay away from my
Brood in the bushes
No breakfast for your kind
Belie your wishes
Away, Away!
Away sly raven
To some other nest
you fly with abandon!”
Categories
Eagle’s Nest
Grackles and Crows
Cackle and call
Filling the morning with their chatter
Does it matter that I’m here?
Not to them, they do not care
About the comings and going of this
Self-absorbed
Man
They don’t plan
Except for their next
meal
Or where to nest
for their love
appeal
And when the crows
Do interfere
These Grackles
Chase them out of here
Then go back to minding
Not a thing
About me
Who listens most intently
To the songs
And calls
Of all things
Small
From the prairie dogs bark
To the red-winged black bird
And the horned lark
Categories
“Not to copy nature” says WCW
Is it true
What WCW
Says about nature?
That to copy
It is
Shameful?
Is it shameful
To replicate
The bird’s song?
A perfect
Rhythm that
Dances along
And for generations
Has embellished
Their species
Is it imitation
You are after
To emulate not replicate?
I thought you
Were the
Poet
Seeking after
The Laureate
Admiration of your fellows?
If not a
Song writer
You seek to be?
Then how much
Trouble really
Is the song that’s Free?
Straight from the Sparrow’s mouth
It carries through the morning
And out unto the world
Awaiting your lyrical definition
No need to mention
That your tune
Came from the trees
Or just how soon
Its origins fade from memory?
No, not me
I am thankful for
The songs of nature
I’ll copy more of
Those perfect beats
Laid cross the morning dews
They speak to you
You know
They do
So carry their tune
With you
Across the page
For one day
When you’re old and played
You will thank them for the music that they gave unto you!
Categories
Won’t Run From Love
Sly, daring, road running
Time of Love, not quite spring
But the waning days of winter sing
Of the promise — A Whisper
Of the returning season
Of raising a new generation
Of cunning birds…
This one with Lizard in mouth
An offering for his devote
Lifemate and lover.
In the road they dance
And show that they have
No patience for the changing clime
Rare to take flight, in pursuit he might
Soar from rooftop to rooftop.
With coos, clicks and beeps
He woos his sweet and as we pass
They pay no mind to our kind.