black crow flaps its wings
suspended on a wind gust
blotting out the sun
Seagull plummets down
Rictus of its gaping beak
Screaming in anger
douse me in feathers
bathe my bones in blessed light
Nephilim is dead
wind of change blowing
ruffling feathers, teasing wings
the fates are spinning
snow fallen branches
sway in a cold breeze, feathers
ruffle in a nest
Chapel in the woods
Empty nests and peeling bark
Nobody to blame
Black birds on the road
Cautious snow flakes, lazy winds
No traffic at all
on bare branches a
shower of snow, in the nest
ruffle of feathers
nocturnal hunter
conspicuous in absence
the owl calls my name
suddenly first light
cacophony of birdsong
breaks the day open
White snow falls to Earth
Cardinal lands on tree branch
Fire among the ash
First frost of the year
The lake steams in the morning
Geese are taking off
Tiny house wren guards
Its territory and nest
With ferocity
Two swans in a marsh
White feathers on cold water
They circle to shore.
Small migrating birds
Flying in a fluid line
A scattered black snake
gemini towers
daedalus wings, twins? demise
papered ash of life
Sudden September
South-bound geese fly unnoticed
Shivering at noon
a lone cardinal
unconcerned with the details
awaiting the spring
Seagull cuts into
a bar of obstinate sun,
casts his own shadow
ripple on the pond
shows where the swimmer has been
an eagle will feast
being all alone
seeing the bird cage covered
with obligation
nothing left behind
a bonfire of her clothing -
geese in formation
milkweed bugs find shade
under the windmill corn stalks
humming bird hovers
dark green summer leaves
birds singing, their nests empty
cold tea before me
white tea and lake mist
a dun flare of ducks ignites
pale swan necks curve north
the wings of a dove
unfold in a cold spring breeze
new words between us
Dogwood flowers float
on boughs above old tree roots
where wasps build their nests.
one cherry blossom
fallen on a swimming duck
riding like a king
This a witches day
haze dancing just above ground
silent sentry crow.
A practical bird,
having no tree of his own,
borrows another's.
the butterfly's wings
catch a fallen rainbow from
the crumbling storm clouds
With the night comes fear,
a prowling owl asking, "who?"
It's too late for shrew.
passing spring shower
the robin shakes off the wet
bursting into song
alone in a cage
the sound of a single bird
searching for ideas
an egret fishes
in the roots of a felled tree ?
sixty-second vine
sat on a tulip
the butterfly's wings unfold
in the warm spring sun