Feline
On the savannah or on my knee,
the difference is one of degree.
That resolution of feline will—
the stroke, the purr, the spring, the kill.
Only the size and prey may change—
the speed of spring, the chase’s range.
Stalking over rock or rill
or perched upon the window sill,
large or small or maned or not,
they are exactly as God has wrought.
Wild or domestic, the fact is that
simply put, a cat’s a cat.
This throwback is from Sept 27, 2020
Here’s a throwback to Sept 22, 2018. We were in the pool for hours tonight. The water was amazing and the sky, moon and trees looked exactly like this, 8 years later.
Twilight
That strange bird, making its chipping call again.
I open my calendar, hoping to find a blank square
promising the richness of time as an empty cup to fill.
I have come to recognize
the joy of my own company—
a simple diet filled only with my favorite dishes.
What to savor first? These expected words or an early morning trip
down to the garden before the day has warmed
and sound has found it?
The men will arrive at 8.
On each side of me, the chipping of concrete
and dry rub of concrete filler. Hours later, the brush.
Their day as productive as my day will be.
Seeing the empty square,
my choice when and how to fill it.
Glass En Masse
It’s sometimes seen as goblets stored upon a shelf
where you can either look right through or stare back at yourself.
In a glass of tea leaves, your future may be spoken,
but its message like its holder may slash us when it’s broken.
It is a perfect metaphor of all that we may be––
on one hand pure distraction, on the other help us see.
Whether it’s a looking glass or one you see right through,
The glass you stand in front of mostly tells us about you.
Reblog from Juoy 9, 2016.
Two years ago I helped a group place baby sea turtles into the ocean for their long voyage into life. See photos and a poem about that voyage here:
https://judydykstrabrown.com/2014/12/05/putting-the-tiny-sea-turtles-into-the-sea/
Like
Edit
Like