Graffitti

Each morning the woodpecker tattoos his message
into the trunk of the crabapple tree
Make yourself known.

Marje

Though she is gone, Marje’s morning glories
spend every summer with me through the miracle of seeds.
And as we did, when they come, I will count the blooms.

Married

The post marries the beam
after a courtship of hand hewing and attention to detail
that seats them perfectly together
forever supporting one another.

Wood Star

Unearthed roots provide an abode for bugs and grubs.
New space for the saplings to grow in is made.
This is the forest’s shooting star.

Spider’s Parachute

Some paratrooping spider left his parachute  behind
after a dangerous porch landing shortly before dawn.
He will weave another one for his next mission.

Baby Bird

Beak like a gum drop, mouth ever open;
always needing and beseeching.
Baby bird, baby bird,
your worm searching mother is tired.

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