Marveling at your bird app

Mimic sounds of a species

Make a tufted titmouse sing

Move in on a sandhill crane

Mating call is now released

Menacing drop of its head

Mark your retreat with rigor


dVerse prompt to use the Pleiades form—

seven lines, each line has seven syllables and must start with the first letter of the one word title (true story about my husband and his birding)


New Moon Deep Sand

I remember sleeping out under the stars during a Girl Scout campout. It was an open area, few light pollutants and a cloudless night. I learned the North Star (Polaris), the dippers both Big and Little (Ursa Major and Minor), Cassiopeia, and as we lay on our sleeping bags looking up,  a cross directly above us. The scout leader shone a flashlight into the direction she wanted us to look and we could follow her light to the next star or constellation.

Decades later I woke on my cot in the middle of the night. I was at the Upper Tanner on the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon. New moon. Deep sand. It was so hot, I lay naked on my sleeping bag. I couldn’t sleep, watched the Milky Way, and saw Pleiades rising.  

under this one sky

a circle magnificent 

above or below


dVerse prompt to write a haibun of an experience in the natural world that influenced your life.  Going through the Grand Canyon on a rafting trip grounded my life to the power of nature (God).

New Moon Deep Sand


November pulls the daylight shorter

crisp long shadows

a cool moon

hallways of justice écho

will there be unfaithful electors

in this month of political aspiration

migrating birds begin their journey

when there is snow on the ground

they will come to the feeder

Today the hawk came

perched on the fence

I do not want to witness

hawk swooping

to squirrel or bird

or my small dog

the hawk


with talons

and hunger


dVerse prompt on November combined with prompt on witnessing


Moon Moth

THOSE stories we tell—

PALE riders going from

FLOWERS to flowers—

MIGHT return before dawn

STILL busy depositing eggs—

HAVE this one last task

TIME & fulfillment

TO perpetuate a species

FRUIT for thé next generation


dVerse prompt to use this line by Karina Borowicz—

« Those pale flowers might still have time to fruit. »

The luna moth lacks a mouth so it cannot fed. Its purpose is to mate and lay eggs, which is done in six to ten days before it dies.

Image from the Field Book of Insects, 1918

Moon Moth

Beach Hikes

Beach hikes are the best because there is no elevation. I can walk for miles, barefooted, sand between my toes and shells strewn along the way. Waves repeating melody cancels the cares of the world, healing power of sound and saltwater.

Except in some beaches of Portugal where the hike to the small beach among rugged cliffs is near impossible. A road leads down, the surf pounds and beware of being pulled under.

In Crete the road winds along sharp curves, narrow, sometimes one lane, for miles going down until finally, there is an expanse of beach, pink sand and clear water.

in any season

this offering to the land

brought by the sea

Beach Hikes


..…when it is over said and done…..

I packed my bags before the way out was too distant. The longer I stayed the greater the possibility of maybe this time, maybe tomorrow, I would walk out the door. This time would be different; a perfect opportunity, a break through in a time of near disparition.

It had been five months since I had traveled. Was flying safe? Was driving safe? Would I accidentally walk into someone else’s sneeze? Touch a surface that hadn’t been Cloroxed? Where would I eat? How will I get water?

So many questions and now a hurricane was rolling through the gulf. Evacuating made it possible. Evacuating blew me out of the house, into the car and down the road. Evacuating meant I could leave everything behind in an instant, hoping I will return another time.


dVerse prompt on verbing. Evacuating— evacuate now— so many people evacuating from fire and hurricane. I was planning on leaving before the need to evacuate. Quote from Allison Adele Hedge Coke from “A Time”



It was the first death I could remember—-my father’s father, my grandfather. It came as a surprise, an aneurysm, as the family sped on the highway trying to get to the hospital. We were too late. I never saw the body.

How could I make sense of death at such a young age?

When we returned home, I picked the butterflies off of the grill of the car. These were dead, their soft bodies smashed, the wings intact. I took those colorful wings to the garden across the street. I sat under the overgrown asparagus in the corner of Laird’s garden and buried the butterflies one by one.

life is a flicker

mind what is more beautiful

pathway to the rest


dVerse prompt on how nature plays into our lives. This is a haibun about a death and how nature played a role in how I dealt with that death. I was six years old and loved butterflies.