Poem

Avian Antics in a Troubled World

Busty orange breasts take presence in the courtyard, wiry feet cling to a copper rim precariously balancing the full weight of each robin fat from a harvest of worms rising from the damp soil. Like birds on a see-saw, each one dips its amber beak into the copper vessel outside my morning window. White spotted orange and black towhees, hop about and scrape the soil in hunt of seed, a berry dropped by another bird in flight above; or an ant, or []

Daffodils & Ice

Morning news, colder than the air that wraps my abode.
Pathetic in false relevancy to anything real.
Bloviators.
Leaders.
Foolish spawns fat on toxic waste spewed from golden towers
thick in greed and power.