bethblairnh8Apr 17, 2023Allegro!The tree outsidemy kitchen doorhas become asymphony ofliquid notes fromgolden throats.They chirp andflutter, voicingthe joy of a dampmorning in latespring when bothbuds and finchescannot help butburst into song.
The tree outsidemy kitchen doorhas become asymphony ofliquid notes fromgolden throats.They chirp andflutter, voicingthe joy of a dampmorning in latespring when bothbuds and finchescannot help butburst into song.
What's For Breakfast?They are the smallest of seeds. Set with care in a tiny feeder suction-cupped to my kitchen window. How can this offering, a mere handful...
SparrowsThese poems are not important enough to be bound in silent books. Rather, let them dart out of the window, bright eyed, to land on your...
SuddenlyWhat would you do if, without warning, men came to your home said you must leave, you will leave now, this very moment. stop feeding your...
留言