You’re very kind to read these, and to comment. So far, most of the birds mentioned have been winter residents. They inhabit my yard and the woods behind my house. You and I agree: can’t wait for the spring and summer birds to arrive. Thanks again!
They certainly are active, and increasingly so at this time of year! It’s fun to set their habits and my own observations into poetry. Thank you for joining me at the window!
Thank you for reading through this and for your kind, generous and interesting comments. The history of these forms is almost as fascinating as writing for them. It’s worth trying more of these.
I’m glad you liked this. This is a tough challenge, but it took on more and more significance as I wrote it, as if the poem itself drew on my thoughts in its being set to paper. Thanks for reading this, and for responding.
Thank you for writing the story. It was a pleasure to encounter the first time, and then to study it several times more. Amateur simply means you love what you do, and that comes through loud and clear in your writing.
The Blue Jay was one of the first birds I learned as a child, at my grandmother’s house in New Jersey. And then I found them everywhere. Later still, I learned that they are mimics and have wider vocal powers than I suspected. That you have connected with other generations of Jays makes me smile. Thanks so much for reading these, and for your reflections.
The Blue Jay certainly knows he handsome, doesn’t he? It’s great that you can see him and his smaller crested colleague, the titmouse, in these poems. Thanks for reading these, and for commenting,
Twitch
Despite my hand’s familiar twitch
I will not go that place tonight;
there’s need to scratch a secret itch
to open wounds that bleed too bright.
I will not go that place tonight
a broken heart awaits me there
to open wounds that bleed too bright,
revealed as truth in deep despair.
A broken heart awaits me there,
false beauty on his blanket lies
revealed as truth in deep despair,
I feel no younger, no more wise.
Fal
Blue Jay
The Blue Jay’s handsome, I will grant,
his crest cocked at a rakish slant,
but he sounds downright crank and cross
in phrases he might not recant.
For words, he’s never at a loss,
and really doesn’t give a toss
if his outspoken cry offends,
for he regards himself as boss.
He doesn’t have too many friends
out where the wood or suburb ends;
his mimicry is often rude,
and rarely does he make amends.
He’s full of
Thank you for writing your experience. It's more than interesting; its compelling, especially given the way you ended it. Of course I want to hear more...
Paul is exactly the kind of man Corbin needs. He's not afraid, and willing to accept risks. And Corbin must know that Paul will soon become just as dedicated and probably just as resourceful as the now-distant Harris. Looking forward to more, of course!
It seems silly to deny what’s plainly evident: we’re responsible for what happens to the planet. But how do we make our voices equal to those who prefer their profits to responsible use of the earth? Your lament is well spoken; if you need help with that soapbox, I’ll take a turn...
You’re right about the sea metaphor; it has possibilities that seem to stretch on and on. And in this case, the notion that one floats, held up by love, is really appealing.
As for battlements and walls, I have grown so weary. It is possible to surrender honorably, and happily....
Thank you for a lovely, touching, and ultimately happy story. You tried very hard to knot together many loose ends, and successfully, too. Should I ever travel to Toronto again, I will look in the crowds for Noah and Jordan, and smile.