How will the joke I play on Magpie who struts my yard be told in paradise? Posted in response to the Ragtag Community word prompt perspicacious.
Snow slants in wind, gloom all day, tonight, tomorrow— Out of murk—lark song https://cdn.audubon.org/cdn/farfuture/hf8Ia05D99GW1Fs4LlvuJmjrOkJGMziebr14clBDqc0/mtime:1416244689/sites/default/files/WESMEA_1.songnum1_NDle_1.mp3?uuid=5c9dfb194d507 In response to the Rattag Community daily prompt word Spring. Thanks to Audubon.org for recording of Western Meadow Lark
Why does he not close the window that last thin whistle gap the wind moans through?
O, the joy: first mud! clotting boots, reminding muscle, the muck we’re made of. Posted in response to the Ragtag Community Daily prompt thaw.
There is silence greater than waiting for chickadee-dee-dee in winter-ruined thickets Posted in response to the Ragtag Daily Prompt tune
She is looking left, a glass of water with lemon wedge. He scowls right, scotch neat.
Over the calving yard coursing the blue, cold air magpies watch, wait.
So much sun, so much snow, so much wind, so cold! no skis, so walking!
shoveling wind-whipped snow, yet still, from the apple tree, chick-a-dee-dee-dee.
old man’s eyes flatline over winter drifts in empty aspen grove.