From the darkness calls

On this last day of April
a call sounded in the night. 
The sky was clear,
the stars were out,
and magic called from the darkness.
We had no expectations, just a
"Wouldn't it be cool if..." attitude.
Yet there he was -
rewarding our climb up the steep hill,
he sang:
Chuck Will's Widow.
Rewarding our climb up the steep hill,
he flew:
Chuck Will's Widow.
Grace.




Day 30 - last day!

Sunday haiku

tiny jewel with wings
I dreamt I saw you last night
hummingbird beauty

I think it also works in reverse:

hummingbird beauty
I dreamt I saw you last night
tiny jewel with wings

Which way works better to your senses? (Personally, I prefer the first one, waiting until the end to reveal the subject of the poem.)




Day 11

Thursday morn haiku

in the early dawn
relentless and tireless
the turkey gobbles

Symphony

The setting sun always brings a
symphony of some sort.
I sit in silence,
listening for the subtle sounds of the first notes.

Tonight's was an intimate concert where
the centerpiece was the crepuscular chanting of cardinals-
the issuing forth of chips and chatter,
the fluttering flourish of heavy wing beats,
the crisp crunch of seeds being husked.

A scuffle and skirmish of males showing off,
the silence of females observing.

I am blessed to bear witness to their rituals.


Day 1

soon

Goose stands on one foot
Waiting for her mate to come
On the wings of spring