That night,
the Moon’s pale & brilliant eye
shone wide across the water
And you three & you & I walked
through the end of an October
warmer than memory allowed
While the fallen, whispering leaves
of oak & sycamore followed us
on brisk & skittering feet.
— C.Birde, 11/23
Allowed to bloom
along the sidewalk,
the privet hedge spills
a white drift of blossoms
in a frill
of sweet scent.
— C.Birde, 6/17
Mother Nature’s
blanket reminder
that even we
must rest —
Snow.
— C.Birde, 3/17
She pulls
the blankets up,
tucks us in,
and encourages us —
just a little longer —
to rest.
— C.Birde, 3/17
Limbs stretched,
pinned to luminous
late-Autumn sky,
He offers no complaint.
— C.Birde, 12/16
Always,
always in motion;
even those rare moments
we remember
to pause…
— C.Birde, 11/16
Spill of
clouded light
emblazoned across
the sweep
of south-facing
sky.
— C.Birde, 11/16