Monday, January 19, 2009


You follow the dawn… Eager and quick with energy, Heading for food and frolic After a night of snuggling In the hollow sycamore. You make your hurried way Through skeletal tree-tops. Leaping from limb to limb, Hurtling across breathless space. A fearless aerialist. Undaunted by icy branches Or iron-hard earth far below. Certain of your gymnastic skills. Little puffs of displaced snow Trickle down from the heights. A confetti of diamond dust To mark your swift passage. And then you’re there… In the tree near the food, And you pause—why? Fear? Shyness? After the Giddy path you’ve traveled? Is it a trust issue? A lack of faith? Or just thankful hesitation, A grace before your meal.


The Accessory Lady said...

Love this picture and poem!

The-Grizzled-But-Still-Incorrigible-Scribe-Himself! said...

Accessory Lady…

Thank you, I'm pleased you enjoyed both.

I did have to keep posting and re-editing it, though, to make the line breaks come out right. They appeared correctly on my "preview" check, but kept going goofy when I actually posted. I finally got it right—I think.

Hope it didn't mess you up. I'm still about semi-capable when it comes to blogging.