WINGS PRESS ON AIR

Three brief poems about birds.
I was watching a talk by Andrew Hass in which he outlined how he uses his journal to gather material for poems. He suggested that listeners went for a walk and wrote down six observations. The next step was to juxtapose these notes and to see what evolved from doing so.
Needles to say I could not manage all the directions. But I did produce three poems.

Plucked from a rubbish bag,

a white bread with mould playing card.

With practised skill and one watching eye,

the beak cuts the over soft centre.

The card spins,

middle gobbled.

Wings press on air,

then the seagull is half a street away.

These poems are literally what I observed on three short walks last Wednesday.

six lampposts

six seagulls

one perched on each

they all look to the south

there's a turf war happening here

that's beyond this mammal's comprehension

I like the idea that this world holds other stories than those told by and about humans. In this human created environment, birds are living out their own myths and legends.

I hope the story is evident from the way I have written this one.

A Good Score

Targeted.

The protein rich prize

tips over the edge.

Topples.

Hits the road.

Spills life.

Between the relentless cars,

two Magpies feast on another's child.

Sad attempt to add a bird image, even if it is from a different continent

The wondrous Annabelle Chvostek is touring next month. This is a song off her new cd. Personally I can't wait to see her live again.