Fragments of tinkling ice
shatter on the rocky shore,
lake a tragic wind chime.
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
-
▼
2016
(367)
-
▼
March
(31)
- March 31: Phoebe
- March 30: Spring cleaning
- March 29: At least there was this
- March 28: Another grey morning
- March 27: Easter morning
- March 26: At the gym
- March 25: Old habits
- March 24: And now for some humor
- March 23: Before dawn
- March 22: Estate planning
- March 21: End of day
- March 20: Habitat
- March 19: Marsh Cottontail
- March 18: In their element
- March 17: Cypress swamp
- March 16: Anticipation
- March 15: Forcing spring
- March 14: Packing anxiety
- March 13: Trailing Arbutus
- March 12: Skunk cabbage
- March 11: Waxwings
- March 10: Snowdrops
- March 9: Neighors
- March 8: Ice-out
- March 7: Everything's connected
- March 6: Fable
- March 5: Crocus
- March 4: Mauve
- March 3: House Finch
- March 2: Civilization
- March 1: After the concert
-
▼
March
(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