sky full of birds
up high a hawk
crows wing at the edges
songbirds dart
every which way
a hummingbird perched,
silent, in a dogwood.
can the hawk see the hummingbird
or
are its eyes
full of light
pouring from the sky
sliding on ropes of cloud
slender as rain
Image by Quentin Dr via Unsplash
Whenever two hummingbirds strive for dominance at a feeder, whenever they fight over a patch of blossoms, whenever one strafes my head because I’m too close to its food source, I am reminded that hummingbirds, like all birds, are the evolutionary descendants of dinosaurs.
A hummingbird has a T-Rex heart.
Image by Michael Baird via Unsplash.com
In the morning the sky will be clear. Soon clouds will form. Through the afternoon a storm will rage, dark and tempestuous. Occasional, ironic patches of blue sky may appear. Finally, sunset will be brilliant, a gathering calm before the Green Ray.
After nightfall, you will see Forever.
Image by Tom Barrett via Unsplash.com
Dust, it is said, is made primarily of shed human skin. But is the dust in my house only my dead skin? Or has someone else’s skin come in?
Image by Austin Ban via Unsplash.com
Raucous caws, black silhouettes against gray clouds circling without formation, guided by sky-touching spires of firs. She remembers last year’s ravaged corn. She remembers “The Birds.” They are powerful, smart and numerous. They inspire primal fear, admiration and covetous love. And arise from more ancient stock than she.
Image by Becky Kjelstrom
If I say to you white is all, black is absence. If you say to me black is all and white is absence. Are we talking about light or pigment? Are we talking about physics or art? Or are we cheering the home team?
Decay of velvet
Heathens among the roses
Thorns, attar of dirt
Image by Rodion Kutsaev via Unsplash.com
