January 5 - January 9 Week 52/72
long draws of the train whistle
travel up through the valley over
hillsides covered in faint outlines of trees
carrying a cargo of memories
childhood counting games
from my grandparent's front porch
thick ice and liquid water
where messages from torpid trout
carp and pond turtles buried
deep in a shoe-sucking muck
rise in bubbles flattening themselves
against smooth, cold surface just
beneath the bellies of two mute swans
an inhale and exhale
life and death as a large
red-tailed hawk sits high above
watchful and waiting for
the slightest movement, beware
darling little mourning dove
Breathing in
Breathing out
Continuing as necessary
You've been out a lot more than I have this month. It is kind of chilly even running over to the shop to water the plants (still in pj's) and the ten steps is takes to throw crow food later on (still in pj's). I can't make myself take down our little Christmas wreath. It seems so far in the past ever since last week happened. The birds are more and more precious. We have a lot of mourning doves all of a sudden, even some that look like youngsters. I'm now wondering if the crows are almost standing guard. They don't pick on anybody. But I do see the red-tailed hawk in a tree across the wetlands and wonder…