From the window
I watch the cardinal
shuck a sunflower seed,
and, beak to beak,
like a passionate kiss,
he passes it to her,
his paler partner.
I imagine then
that I see the gleam
in his lusty eye.
Note on Photograph: I can find no other attribution for this photograph other than it was taken in Woods Hole, Massachusetts in 2014. It has appeared in a number of online birding sites. My thanks to the anonymous (but talented) photographer for capturing this tender moment.
Today, on Ekphrastic: writing and art on art and writing, as part of their 20 poem challenge, I have three haiku to go with a gorgeous picture of swallows.
To read the poems and see the art in the original publication, please click on this link:
http://www.ekphrastic.net/ekphrastic/swallows-by-mary-kendall
The artwork is “Swallows” by Benjamin Chee Chee
(1)
frail beauty—
scissoring the sky
on indigo wings
(2)
hope . . . soaring on wingless winds
(3)
taking leave—
gathering courage
as you fly
My thanks to editor, Lorette C. Luzajic, for including these haiku.
To listen to an audio of me reading this poem, just click on the link below. Give it a few seconds, and it will start.
Salted Feathers
I was four when you told me the story
that if someone wanted to capture a bird
they must sprinkle its tail with salt.
We went outside, salt shaker in hand,
not sure what we really planned to do.
In the end, it was a tiny sparrow foraging
for fallen seeds or tiny insects on the other
side of the chain link fence at the back
of the yard. You told me to go ahead and
sprinkle it. My hand would not fit through
the opening link square with the shaker.
Blindly I tossed a spray of salt that landed
more on you and me than any place else.
The little bird was spared, and he continued
rummaging around in the grasses, indifferent
to the plans made by two small girls who
had no real idea what it was to take away
the gift of flight. No salted feathers for him.
All I remember now is that I felt something
happen inside when the little bird looked
at me and, in the way of all birds, off it flew.
In the past five months I have been studying my much beloved tanka, haiku and small poems in order to become a better writer. Writers–and poets–need to keep growing as they go. As part of my interest in these lovely small poem forms, I have joined a number of exception online groups of poets who post their own writing. On several of the sites, “prompts” are given and sometimes a picture is given. People respond as they wish or not. Often comments are given. I can’t tell you what a thrill it is to get a “like” or even a comment by one of these poets who are so gifted and accomplished tanka and/or haiku poets, but even without the ‘likes,’ it feels wonderful to be a little more confident about sharing poems publicly. This morning, I’m posting several tanka I wrote this week to specific prompts.
~
1 [prompt: celebration of color]
Photograph (c) Kristin Sanderson
scribbles
of scarlet red
in the shrubs—
two cardinals
take flight
~
Photography (c) by Cab Treadway
cloud masquerade
tonight—
the moon is hidden
from your
wanton gaze
~
3 [prompt: how you share your journey]
old cobblestones
so hard to cross—
without speaking
I take your arm
and we walk on
~
4 [prompt: flutes..music…]
sweet song
hidden in the plum tree–
a nightengale
gives itself
away
~
I’d like to share a tanka that is currently appearing in Ribbons, Tanka Cafe, Winter 2015
Junco, photo by Kathy Adams Clark
winter light
shadows linger low
behind us—
dark-eyed juncos
scurry past our feet
Juncos, photo by Brian Cunningham
This poem appeared in Ribbons, Tanka Cafe, Winter 2015
This is the publication of the American Tanka Society,
THE DECORAH EAGLES…JOIN THE FAN CLUB!
The eagles landed some time ago and have carefully rebuilt and replenished their nest. I am referring to the now famous Deborah Eagles out in Iowa. For several years now, I’ve been one of their fans watching the live camera feed. The first egg has been laid, and the camera is showing mom sitting on it as the wild winds blow past here high up in a cottonwood tree.
The first egg was laid a day ago. It will hatch in 35-39 days if all goes well.
Watch it, if you dare. You just might get hooked on this fascinating bit of eavesdropping.
Raptor Resource Project Decorah Eagle Cam, Decorah, IA
***LIVE CAMERA LINK: http://www.raptorresource.org/falcon_cams/decorah_eagle_xcel.html
And Then It Flew
Older by only days, the first-born eagle
Was the first to branch, the first to fly~
Young eyes studying the world beyond the tree,
It now stood on a limb, lifting its wings over
And over, learning how to battle erratic gusts,
Learning how to channel the waiting wind,
Understanding now what it would be like to fly.
Again and again, those powerful wings fluttered,
Starting and stopping, gaining strength and nerve,
Gathering courage for that first awkward jump
Until one morning it lifted off the branch and flew,
Joining its parents in capturing the wind, trusting
That once it had made that leap, it too would fly.
His first flight.
A Poet in Time 