My forward movement
startles us both –
you ground foraging
with the robins,
me delighted
by a flash of red –
heart at your nape.
You rise, alight
on tree branch
your squeaky call,
warning or greeting
stops me in my track –
patiently I wait
as you circle the tree
head bobbing, alert,
till we both settle
and my lens succeeds.
(For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day. Â Image from personal collection.)
Long since
dawn’s early
observation,
have witnessed
patriarchy’s
inequalities
first hand
second hand
lack a solution,
short of vengeance –
perpetrate rather
than end the cycle
of crime –
no place
to call home.
(Image from personal collection.)
Night lifts,
morning slipping
through blinds,
soul returning
from nightly foray,
body awakening,
a vague sense
of disconnection –
admit it,
you know this.
Blending in
the gift of stealth
only your voice –
woodsy reed  –
alerts me to your presence.
You are grey sky
and rushing waters
tall reeds and
wind-swept banks
And when my heart
beats off tempo
given to spells
of malaise
you are metronome
reseting my rhythm.
(Friday I join in with Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day. Photo from personal collection.)
Pain no longer a threat
having found numbness –
semi-permanent vacation
from insistence of
chronic battles,
this unchosen life.
(Image from personal collection)
I am in awe of the eagles who have made our neighbourhood home. Â To see them up close is such a blessing.
For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day, and for RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Challenge: pure/ serene.)
Imitate Nature,
the guru said,
observe and learn.
Geese, I notice,
are loud, messy,
and communal.
Move slowly
without shame,
protest likewise.
Not sure I aspire
to goose-like behavior,
but balance would be good.
(For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day.)
Must have been the heat –
lazy August sun reaching
through Willow sway –
or maybe the laughter
bubbling up from brook –
had me so ensorcelled
I swear I saw the veil slip,
beheld faery beings –
a second of enchantment
then gone…
Be as trees, reaching
canopy of harmony,
gratitude implied.
(For RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Challenge: Â gratitude / harmony. Â Photo from personal collection.)
Late August nights cool
burnt dry hues
will soon transform –
symphony of colour
There is sorrow
in Summer’s end;
Autumn’s icy breath
Winter’s warning.
One Woman's Quest 