We wish the young hawk
perched over our mouse-filled shed
would stick around.
 |
| (Photo taken through screened window) |
Posted with Blogsy
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
A poet and naturalist tries to find poetry in every day
Followers
Blog Archive
-
▼
2017
(366)
-
▼
January
(31)
- January 31: Light in the darkness
- January 30: Year of the Rooster
- January 29: Afternoon with a book
- January 28: Owl
- January 27: Stone wall
- January 26: Winterberry
- January 25: Many-splendored
- January 24: Crane text
- January 23: Storm watch
- January 22: Matters of Scale
- January 21: Women's March
- January 20: Roadside
- January 19: Opera House
- January 18: White
- January 17: Post-holiday
- January 16: Calm seas
- January 15: Playoffs
- January 14: Thaw
- January 13: Cold morning
- January 12: Mourning
- January 11: Newcastle Brown
- January 10: Red-tail in the 'hood
- January 9: Traffic light
- January 8: Fresh
- January 7: Distractions come easy when you're tryi...
- January 6: Epiphany
- January 5: For winter
- January 4: Send-off
- January 3: Weeping
- January 2: Evening rituals
- January 1, 2017: Evening reading
-
▼
January
(31)
About Me
- Kristen Lindquist
- Camden, Maine
- I am a birder, poet, and writer most interested in animals, vegetables, and minerals, living in my hometown in Midcoast Maine.
No comments:
Post a Comment