a morning of birds in the tree
invisible sweet calls
rustlings in the shade
the one that sifts the sand
scrapes his bill (beak) through the dry dusty dirt
looking sideways for bugs.
stereo birds
back door grackles and loud ravens
overtaking the tree
just at the edge of our backyard (louise's)
black heavy gurgled cries
ominous smudges in the branches
impatient harsh cries.
kitchen window
sweet round sound
peacocks.
silver water sounds
movements through the fence
bowl of blood red lava rocks
mismatched children's chairs
wood stump with alabaster ashtray
white birdbath
sunbaked earth
quieter now, the cracks open.
the ants have blocked the
entrance to their hole
with sticks.
No comments:
Post a Comment