The Magpies

When just a boy

his Aunt Eva sat at table

playing cards with her friends

they called themselves The Magpies

and he crawled beneath

among their sequoia legs

while over head the squawking

of the birds

At the internment of this aunt

one lone magpie

flew into the small cemetery

as if to say

I am here

I am here

remember me

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dVerse prompt to write a corvid poem

The Magpies

Come Into the Garden

Come

into the garden

at dawn

before

dew dries

from the dragonfly

Come

as the sun

filters

through cedars

to glow

on the rippled

waters of pond

Come

with trowel and seed

energy

to last all day

pluck a weed

don’t forget

to feed

hungry peonies

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NaPoWriMo Day 19 prompt to write a command poem. This is my garden commanding me to get to work.

Come Into the Garden

Spin On

there would be day and there would be night on the first day

water will not spill over the edge of this rough existence but tides will be sometimes high and sometimes low

(compressed over time

into a spiritual shape

of shadows)

spin factor that keeps balance and movement in the right direction

perfect union with the creator

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NaPoWriMo Day 18 five answers to an unstated question

Spin On

Blooms

I want to know what makes a flower bloom

My tulips look like I planted upside down

Iris are all green with lanky stalk

Lilies look so small and disarrayed

Is it the lack of nutrients in the soil

Or winter’s low shading of the sun

My pear tree must have flower to fruit

Without blooms peas and beans retreat

Do not waste away another day

It’s time to fertilize fertilize fertilize

Come alive

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NaPoWriMo Day 16 prompt to write a curtal sonnet.

Blooms

Scene One of My Life

Exterior Afternoon

A baby is sleeping in a baby buggy under an old elm. The sun is shining on the buggy.

Voice Over

Jane There is something heartfelt about being born in Iowa.

A small butterfly flies into the buggy and lands on the baby’s nose.

The baby wakes up.

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NaPoWriMo Day 14 prompt to create the first scene of your life.

Scene One of My Life

Underwater

When I was ten, I learned to swim. To hold my breath, submerge, and move underwater. Only the torso, legs and arms of other people were visible. No heads. I never timed these underwater adventures but swam about like some kind of fish. Eyes open but no gills; just my expanded lungs, increasing capacity to stay under longer and longer. I became an orca scouting its prey. My feet, the fluke, pounding surface with each new breath. My mouth spewing water into the sunshine.

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NaPoWriMo Day 8 prompt to write your alter ego.

Underwater