leaden night
heavy, humid
clinging to a weeping
window pane
the spring peeper
greets its kin
with metallic
cheeps
and ballooning
chin
Tom Spencer © 2019
Sep 3, 2019
Sep 3, 2019 at 7:27 AM UTC
first car down the road
on a summer morning
scissortails and mockingbirds
scatter from the powerlines
rabbits bound ahead
and then dodge into the grasses
luxuriant and wild
grape vines
cloak the barbed wire
and smother the hackberries
cumulus clouds
still tinted pink and gold
rise lazily above
the freshly mown fields
with their stubble
and neatly rolled bales of hay
tires hum
leaves rustle in my wake
the heat has already
begun to pool
in shimmering illusions
that dissolve
on the blacktop ahead
Tom Spencer © 2019
Aug 31, 2019
Aug 31, 2019 at 7:03 AM UTC
two silhouettes
on the overpass
one head down
looking at her phone
the other waving
a plastic wand
trailing soap bubbles
in the morning light
Tom Spencer © 2019
Aug 27, 2019
Aug 27, 2019 at 5:20 AM UTC
white wings
gleaming in the sun
a flashing pendulum
swinging steadily
back and forth
across the field
a cloud of egrets
stalks the tumult
churning from
the tractor’s wake
Tom Spencer © 2019
Aug 20, 2019
Aug 20, 2019 at 7:55 AM UTC
leaves shiver
windows rattle
but no rain falls
waking to the
unsettled edges
of a skirting storm
I find myself
drawn once again
a visitor to this place
this precipice
very briefly
brimming full
of possibility
and promise
but instead
like an autumn leaf
I answer
the gentle summons
and drift back into
the well of dreams
Tom Spencer © 2019
Jul 22, 2019
Jul 22, 2019 at 5:05 PM UTC
thinning clouds
drift eastward
fading light clings
to the trailing mist
in the sudden calm
beads of water
slip from the leaves
and are welcomed
by the thirsting earth
hibiscus flowers droop
ferns shimmer
distant thunder sounds
from the top of a tree
a mockingbird
celebrates this brief respite
from the summer heat
a neighbor steps out
and joins me for a moment
we fall silent
and drink our fill
Tom Spencer © 2019
Jul 9, 2019
Jul 9, 2019 at 8:11 AM UTC
because I looked
I saw the hummingbird return
to the same bare branch
on-top of the sunlit tree
and noted its zealous
round trips to the feeder
on the porch
and because I listened
to the katydids calling
only half understanding
their urgency
but certain of it
this otherwise quiet evening
signifying nothing in particular
reminds me of everything
in particular
Tom Spencer © 2019
Jun 14, 2019
Jun 14, 2019 at 4:59 PM UTC
a door closes
and I hear him
shuffling down the hallway
his wife of sixty-six years
my mother
asleep, almost invisible
beneath the blankets
as fragile as a baby bird
he stops to wind
the grandfather clock
smiles and nods
“I smell that coffee”
ninety years-old
and still "up-and-at-em”
pills to ration
a newspaper to fetch
dishes to put away
meanwhile
back in their room
dreaming
she remembers
everything
standing by his side
she turns to meet his eyes
Tom Spencer © 2019
May 21, 2019
May 21, 2019 at 7:42 AM UTC
vast
infinitely vast
soft spring sky
calmer than a waveless sea
swallows arc
with scythe-like wings
distant flecks
vanishing
beyond
the beyond
Tom Spencer © 2019
May 13, 2019
May 13, 2019 at 12:01 PM UTC
suspended
holding my breath
as the crow floats down
lightened
before landing
wing tips fluttering
talons extended
reaching
for the top
of the powerline pole
Tom Spencer © 2019
Apr 18, 2019
Apr 18, 2019 at 7:51 AM UTC