A free verse poem about the early morning songs of backyard birds.
I helped save a chickadee’s life on Saturday. Here’s a photo of the little fella in the palm of my hand. How I came to know this little chickadee On Saturday, following a family expedition on the Rivanna Trail, my…
Sleep when the birds sleep Close your eyes when the birds do Wake when the birds wake. Below is an audio recording of the birds in my backyard at 5 AM. Every morning when I wake, I open the kitchen window…
A short poem about grieving the loss of my dad in my life and the crow that helps me alleviate this pain
The kitten mews a hungry cry Just outside my window bay Then flutters away into the sky.
There is a small bird whom I cannot see, hidden amongst the limbs blowing a tin whistle.
The robins run afoot then stop on a dime, sifting.
A prose poem.
A free verse poem.
A haiku for springtime.
Are clouds really made of marshmallows?
My sister recently gave birth. It was her second—this time a girl; small, beautiful, long fingered. Upon visiting her in the hospital, I was reminded of how delicate a newborn is. Also, in this post, I digress slightly on the topic of grocery shopping at Harris Teeter with my son Henry