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

Love to My Dog

How do I love thee!? Let me count the ways. from Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How do I love thee? I love thee unequivocally. Let no man deny true friendship with a dog. How do I love thee? With undeniable comradery. I seek no other desire but to walk with you everyday as you pull on the leash and sniff so boldly. How do I love thee? With double blessings to have you in my life against all odds of never having another pet. Your nickname Never Again. How do I love thee? With every passion welled up inside of me as you sit so earnestly for a treat. How do I love thee? Robustly and vigorously while scratching you behind the ears as you greet me at the door. How do I love thee? Undeniably.

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A love poem for NaPoWriMo Day 10.

Love to My Dog

Birds of Prey

SHOCKING to see the cardinal eat a gecko

thick beak designed to crack seeds & nuts

one would expect it from a blue jay

not this red bird with its sweet song

now a gecko hangs from songbird beak

lifeless & being shaken

its head consumed then tail

legs gnawed away

it looks like a small fish

yet too big for the throat

of such a now ravenous bird

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I looked out the window today and saw this cardinal with a gecko. Unexpected metaphor to the current events.

Birds of Prey

It is late…..

It is late and I am going to bed.  There is a scratching sound then it stops.  Could it be a bug or a mouse trying to get out of this basket?  I shake the basket.  No sound.  The sound comes again.  I look around and there it is.  A gecko is half in and half out of my writing book. It has clawed its way out of the pages of paper.  Bright green with little eyes, tail and hind legs still in the book.  I carry the book outside and free it like a poem into the night air.

It is late…..