About What Counts – a remix

About What Counts – a remix

He counts the birds of many hues
The names of most, he doesn’t know,
but they must count for something too.

His favorites are the noisy blues,
the yellows putting on a show.
He counts the birds of many hues,

this window gives a perfect view.
The black one – oh, it’s just a crow,
but they must count for something too.

He still remembers quite a few
it’s memories that do not flow.
He counts the birds of many hues

until they’re gone, all but a few,
and like them memories have flown,
but they must count for something too.

He sees a face and wonders who,
should he remember them – but no.
He counts the birds of many hues,
and they must count for something too.

About What Counts

About What Counts

He sits at the kitchen window counting
birds at the feeder. He used to know the name

of each one, their breeding habits, their migration
patterns. A large shadow passes overhead, scattering

the little birds like the memories that elude him. People
and places he no longer recalls, strangers in photographs.

Only the feelings remain.
Surely they must count for something.

Beggars Without Bowls

d’Verse Poets Pub – MTB: To turn again, about turn again.
https://dversepoets.com/2021/06/03/mtb-to-turn-again-about-turn-again/

Beggars Without Bowls

I offer seeds and nuts to the beggars
and they come, big and small, begging,


without bowls, for alms, for scraps that beg
not to be wasted. And I, like those beggars,


hope for a quick reward, a glimpse, for begging
them with seeds and nuts to appear – those feathered beggars


scavenging for leftovers beneath the feeder, beggars
without bowls in bird-like disguise

Amid Chaos

PAD 14 – from where I’m sitting

Amid Chaos

The morning sun slants through the kitchen window where
I sit,
surrounded by the lacey pattern the shadows make on the the wall.
Amid
the calmness of morning bird calls, Bach, and tea there is
chaos
at the bird feeder. Finches and sparrows battling for position, not
waiting
their turn – for theirs is a battle of survival not a negotiation
for peace.

waltmarie poetic form

https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-poetry/2021-april-pad-challenge-day-14

Early in the Morning

dVerse Poets Pub – Poetics: On Wandering & Observing

Early in the Morning

 
She likes to go for a wander
in the morning – before the sun
heats up the day too much.
She strolls along the fitness trail –

passed easily by joggers and
serious walkers – most listening
to something other than the bird calls.
If she is lucky, she gets to watch a

Great Blue Heron fishing among the reeds
that line the shallow end of a small lake,
or laugh at the Little Blue Herons and Swallows
swoop and dive across the water – as if

playing a game of avian tag.
She often stops to sit quietly, whenever she
comes to a bench, looking for a pair of turtles
that sun themselves on an old log – grateful that

someone thought to provide a perfect
spot to just observe. And that is when she
begins feeling a little sorry for the runners
and fitness walkers who miss out on

the benefits of a good wander.