Can You Hear the Buzz?


Ready to Make Friends with Poetry? ⟶


The family of goldfinches crest over the roof above my head. Their -V- of flight dismantles as they land branch by branch in the green, bright yellow coloring invisible to my eye. Morning has begun. The world wakes up and it is always the birds’ job to tell me so, messengers flinging notes aloft–I catch…
No, it’s not a new Football term. My new blogosphere friend Jan Johnson and I have gotten to know each other via comments and posts and we had a brainstorm–why not ‘trade spots’ on a Thursday? I’ll post something she wrote and she’ll post something I wrote and the world will be a little brighter…
No matter where I live, I recognize the song of a red-winged blackbird. In rushes near the shore’s edge of a California beach, along the canals and waterways in the San Joaquin Valley, the tall grasses along a Louisiana bayou or deep in marshes along Washington’s coast, the voice of the songbird is the same….
The early morning light is unrolling across the sky. Birds make their announcements in the treetops and I stand on my deck, cup of coffee in hand to take it in. My Lover is here. My Jesus, speaking to me through the birdsong and new sky day. The night before was full of restless thoughts…
I pour lemon oil onto my dust rag, massaging the small table’s worn and chipped surface. No amount of elbow grease or lemon oil will cover up the wear and tear–scuffs from an old plant container, water rings from one too many glasses of iced tea, the solitary black circle from a dropped cigarette. Simply…
The chickadees are arguing using their mad voices to fight over the millet and sunflowers– Here’s a sweet ‘chirp’, there’s an insistent, “cuh, cuh, cuh” and another voice–“chick-a-dee, dee, dee.” It’s a Bird Boardroom Brawl, voices of different timbres and tempo arguing about what’s on the menu. They sound as if they’re starving, staking out…