a thud on the window

see-through glass brings the woods outside in

just for a second the bird believed it could fly into my living room

hit hard

spine fracturing thump



a pine siskin is convulsing outside on the deck

its beak moving as if it eats

feet traveling in a journey

wings that cannot move


Springtime Mating

There is a horny robin

banging into the reflection of itself

against the glass window he thinks he found a mate

it is cold and hard

repelling his every move

yet he keeps coming back

handsome with his orange breast

sits at the top of the apple tree

contemplating his new approach

and mumbling

that feathered bitch

Springtime Mating

More Than

Less than a week of being off the water of the mighty Colorado River, my body is still rocking. Some call it disembarkment syndrome when your mind is sensing movement that is no longer there.

My mind returns to the shore of the Grand Canyon, Poncho’s Kitchen, thick sand, rock ledges where the silent scorpion was ready to pounce on a moth that night. How it glowed white under Danny’s UV light and we watched it move in its own darkness.

what we cannot see
hidden in summer shadow
more than time and space


dVerse prompt on sounds of summer – most scorpions make no sound – saw my first one while camping on the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon

More Than

Wild Docdodu

Find the wild docdodu

It has six legs

And won’t bite you

It hides in trees and on the ground

With eyes of yellow it looks around

Sometimes you can see it too

Because it has a skin of blue

If it would ever show it’s head

You’d see an elongated neck

With beak the size of your mother’s bread

I thought I spied it the other day

It had come to the ground

And was running away

I called it by name

But it wouldn’t stay


NaPoWriMo prompt on a list poem so here is the list to identify the wild docdodu

Wild Docdodu

Too Loud

Some voices are just too loud. Watching the wild burro at Alamo Lake was fun but when they stayed up all night and brayed back and forth waking me up every hour it seemed there was no reason for their voice cutting up the night except to irritate. Now I know that was not the case. The male burrow seemed to be marking his territory with his voice.

At daybreak the noise continued. One gray male came running down the rocky hill side, screaming as he went. It was rather intimidating for me not knowing if it was for the other burro. I counted eight on the hillside and six in the valley towards the lake. No wonder it was such a cacophony of sound in the Rawhide Mountains Wilderness Area.

voices in the wild

pierce below cloudy moon night

hard to understand


NaPoWriMo prompt on voices

Too Loud