Tag Archives: Fly
In the Echinacea
A Cardinal, spying from the pow’r lines by my kitchen window, acts tempestuously
As if he cannot resist me
Truth be told, I’m fond of him, too
Remarkable as he is — less a vivid red than most, and volume missing in the tufts of his shaggy cone
I know the migration he’s been through, and he needs that
Unafraid to ask, I say, “What is it you want?”
His response…be still, my heart!
I won’t betray his confidence, but we see eye-to-eye
It’s the reason he finds himself landing in my backyard peach tree at every possible opportunity
Poking around in the Echinacea, for calm
Glad I give him refuge, I leave open the door
Talking with him like this, leaves me wanting more
The Fly
I prefer my quicker shutter
When lumbering around downtown
Up town, and out of town
These nouns all move
So fast
So fancy, in the vast
I can be about
Without being found out
With my quicker shutter
Kinetic
We look ahead at sixty now
The gander, grace-filled
The graceful goose
Silvery fire, calm
Wondrous!
So we wait and keep walking
Flying, when we’re able
But never again bewildered
If we would not be this
We could not be that
Original thought credit: Ms. Joni Mitchell; “Both Sides Now”
Try to Fly
I find things
I find them
Light-filled things
Touchable
Teachable
And not
Sometimes
Always
Signal Mountain Road
Make your way, you, into my night-thoughts, bandying about
Thrashing within my yesterdays, my tonights
An eternal terrorist, it would seem, with no new tactics
Age old, you’re old, I’m getting old and have had enough
I will tell you this, though you will not hear: I am more
More than this, more than us, more than you can handle
The proof is how it took forever for you and that you’re still trying
I’m still here, greater than any sum -look how you are less
Fly
I’d walk away from that song
Stand up
Assuredly and
Move as far from
Smothering, dark guitar riffs
Microphone too close to the lips
Smacks of the 70’s
Music, loosely-defined
Sounds no one thought much of
To this crowd, though, it’s fly
But I’m leaving the headache
The poor acoustics
The noise for these poor ears
Behind
Cue the fog machine and strange piano
a fortiori
Why the grown hawk would struggle on
The wind
I cannot know
I've seen it, though
And desiring
To help things along for regalness sake
I reached up on high
In prayer
To see burden lifted, compass-mark found
In This Often Early Morn’
You've what cools me
As the purr
Of a hungry cat
Trying not to ask
That kind
Of cool
How you warm me
As I watch
Morning's early dew
Set silent and still
While busy, flying things
Tend to my eyes
Only Now
Just fly on us
The breath and the birds
Breath
Birds
The breath and the birds
Fly on us
Just
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