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Monday, November 15, 2010


The call of Red-bellied woodpeckers pierce the morning 
As the focal sphere pierces the dawn, 
fighting obliteration by clouds which promise a shower.

The clouds give way allowing the sun to blind and bathe me;
even as drops of water 
compete with the light for a spot on the grass.
I hear the drops but as yet only feel the sun.

The birds, too, ignore the tapping rain,
calling to each other;
The raspy nagging of the titmouse,
The distant caw of my friends, the crows,
and the closer deep squeak of the nuthatch
as it heads downward on the dark trunk of a lichen-covered oak.


birdy said...

Beautiful capture, but too small.

Beyond The Garden said...

Birdy, I had the small photo to go with my poem, but looking back I have noticed that the words were a different color than usual for some reason and you couldn't even see them. Maybe the size is better now that you can see it goes with the photo. If not, then double click on the pic to enlarge it.