Sunday, September 06, 2020

Island poem, 2020 (revised)


 


From the tree tops the birds 

claim territories, call for partners, warn fledglings.

Chattering, chirping, checking.

Where to fly? Where to watch?

Where to find fish 

this one morning

in one more summer's life?


Leaves on the Quaking Aspen

(yes—that’s its name!)

Shimmy in the shore breeze.

The pines cast their shadow over the lawn

and sing to the far shore.

Caught on the updraft

gulls screech 

Har-eee, har-ee — here.



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