Birds in Their Yard

Birds in their yard,

beneath the mottled bark,

of the one and oddly shaped

apple tree,

that let loose more apples

this year,

than last,

and I looked out,

the back window,

into our empty yard,

then filled the feeder,

and scattered seeds,

in all the right places,

beneath the buddha,

and saint francis.


They came at last,

but not the cardinals,

until much later,

and then,

I shook myself free,

of lingering guilt,

and thought about,

how little time it took 

to fill the feeder,

and scatter seeds,

in all the familiar places.


I have been writing a poem a day for almost a year.  Ten more days and I will have reached 365.  I am not sure about going another year, although this daily practice has connected me back to a creative source that is always close but not always accessible.  I’m sure I will continue writing, just not sure how…..if you have any favorites or comments, I would love to hear from you.  In any case, hope these poems have been an inspiration and/or, at best, provided a glimpse into memories and feelings of your own, moving you to pause and treasure sharing the creative experience with me.  Thanks…..and especially to Leigh, who got me started on this endeavor….


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