I am traveling through the Ozarks as I have a number of times, same highway, same destination. This time is different. The dogwood trees are in bloom, their flowers making thickets of white in a low canopy among tall oaks.
Where I am, surrounded by Ozark Mountains, the sun is setting and now the quiet water of the Lake of the Ozarks reflects the moon.
NaPoWriMo prompt on letter to a favorite historical figure and response by that person. One of my favorite poets. I visited his house and Tor House in Carmel one day while road tripping. Original take on this experience written in 2016.
In Anchorage there were lots of ravens but I did not see eagles. An osprey flew over Gazzam Lake with talons holding a fish. It looked cartoonish, its nest perched high. In southeastern Texas, a bird of prey circled and settled in a towering pine. “What is that bird?” I asked. It’s an eagle they said. Pretty sure that’s an eagle.
I have seen bald eagles, juveniles, goldens. This was no eagle. This was a smaller bird, darker, sleek and slender. There are still those who thought they saw an eagle. It was a Mississippi kite. It came again the next day and waited awhile on a wire.
now at Autumn Lake
this flock of cedar waxwings
flying north to Spring
dVerse prompt to write a haibun concerning the eagle.