A murder of crows
observes my passage,
anchors my presence
In nature, I trust –
all else is noise.
(Visit me on Twitter for more poetry snippets. @Vjknutson. Image from personal collection.)
A murder of crows
observes my passage,
anchors my presence
In nature, I trust –
all else is noise.
(Visit me on Twitter for more poetry snippets. @Vjknutson. Image from personal collection.)
How a single ray of light
slips through a thicket
setting a leafy row ablaze,
How the kingfisher’s trill
echoes off the silken waters,
How our love remains despite
the ills that pursue us –
Glorious mystery.
(Image from personal collection.)
As light in darkness
transforms mundanity, so
too am I salvaged –
revelation turning back
the icy pallor of Winter.
(Tanka borrowed from a previous post on One Woman’s Quest II: Resetting the Dial. I have given the poem a title here. Image from personal collection.)
Full sun,
river dons an icy blue,
white banks blind,
light hits water –
bedazzled burst –
I seek an angle.
Banditry of chickadees
noisily arrives
dance their joyous jig –
too slow my lens
Movement on a bare bark
draws my focus,
a brown creeper –
I am lucky this time
delightful noonday capture.
From Nature, instinct,
intuition – confidence
of nurture derived.
(For RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Challenge: nature/nurture. Â Also linking up with BrewNSpew’s weekly challenge: folklore. Â The Ugly Duckling is a fairytale from my childhood. Â Image from personal collection.)
But for the beating of heart –
a discordant rhythm –
I am obliterated by fog –
numbness of unanticipated loss
clouded by dreams misted over –
I await sun’s return….
Intense, your presence,
fierceness of talons, bulk of
feathered might – humble
my soul’s rejoicing, grateful
to share this brief encounter.
(For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day.)
A succession of tweets
draws me to riverbed
where tiny legs scurry
across exposed rocks.
Foraging amongst
soggy offerings,
the Spotted Sandpiper
exudes confidence.
It is female who
choses breeding ground,
prepared to defend
her clan, appoints
her mates to mind
the young – she is
polyamorous, hormone
driven – a force.
(For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day.)
Romantic nature
paves the path with gold – river
adds sweet harmony.
(For RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Challenge: Â river/ path. Â Image from personal collection.)
Vultures come
sharpen talons and beaks
tear at necrotic flesh
pick this carcass clean
I need a committee
to rid me of parasitic past
trauma’s cadaver
weighing me down.
(Linking up to Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day. Â A macabre bird and poem to fit the season. Â Image from personal collection)