It’s that time again. As usual, respond in kind if you wish.
Like everyone else
by the time they reach Mexico
the North Wind has forgotten its task
It’s that time again. As usual, respond in kind if you wish.
Like everyone else
by the time they reach Mexico
the North Wind has forgotten its task
Red-shouldered hawks are the only ones who call continuously while hunting. Very sporting, I thought.
Daybreak
A pair of hawks
announce the sun
Big noises drift and blend and bend
Along the big-bosomed beach afternoon
Pelicans snag the wind and troop off
Into the indifferent sky
The snag-tailed grackles call
“Sweet pea! Sweet Pea!”
Or, if Russian,
“A drink! Come have a drink!”
And then the people, in solar gratitude
Lined up, eyes closed, skin offered
Without reservation
To some unseen eternity
Gods for the moment