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Svetoslav Feb 2021
new lives in a shell
soul developing body
opal colors strike
little birds are unfolding
loving mom hugs them warmly
Syllable Count: 31 ~ lines 5/7/5/7/7 ~ 20 words

by Svetli
Ruth Solnit Feb 2021
Pick a bird you’d like to be
Heron, eagle, hummingbird
Daring, large, fast, gaudy,

Or camouflaged,
a small brown forager
spiraling a tree.

Tending to bark and larvae.

Ruth Solnit, February 2021
Susan N Aassahde Feb 2021
canary whisper
for pink pebbles
on hills of June
When birds fly high
they reach the sky.
They sing their song
They make their call
To baby birds
letting know
they’re on their way
With food to  show
collect through  day
Making chirping sounds
to say
Mama bird is on her way
Letting know that food will fall.
After babies hungry call!!!

Shell ✨🐚
Beautiful sight, birds flying chirping through the air!! I sit and watch this everyday.  How they bring food to feed They build a nest in my front yard.
William Clifton Feb 2021
This afternoon, I time a Loon
the length that she stays under.
Upon the shore, I keep her score,
amazed and full of wonder.
Beneath a wake, one minute eight.
What is it that she plunders?
***********
No hook needs she to fish so free.
No line nor rod impedes her.
What sense applies to depths she dives?
Which rhythm moves her meter?
As if in air she swims so fair
To seek that which may feed her.
***********
On this Fall day, I wish to stay
and watch her dive and surface.
“Get back to shore!” My mind implores
as work beckons its service.
And yet I stay in silence, bade
the Loon to bear me witness.
************
Share I with Loon this afternoon
to gladly dive and swim?
In friendship be the Loon with me?
With her would I find kin?
No.
As land locked Loon, I must resume
to fish the drink I’m in.
To gaze in wonder.
Ruth Solnit Feb 2021
Today only their edges show.
A feather, a foot, a flash of orange,
stirring leaves left on the big madrona,
playing hide-and-seek,
suddenly exotic.

Ruth Solnit November 2020
Man Jan 2021
it was a cuckoo who flew the coup
took wing from his nest
off to push out eggs, like ***-pa
just another everyday coup d'etat

leopard leaping from his perch
pushing onward toward his prey
a small friend to no feline
trapped in a quick sand
left only to bay

you are these animals
icelar Jan 2021
for what it's worth,
all this work will be forgotten by sunday.
for what it's worth,
my accomplishments will be forgotten by sunday.
for what it's worth,
all my ambition and drive will be forgotten by sunday.
for what it's worth,
i hope they will remember on monday.

however,
my ambition and drive might burn itself out,
but i'll just blow on it and stoke the flame
it'll set the entire world on fire
taking it by storm, hurricane after hurricane,
until the ash settles and the water recedes,
and a single snowflake settles on the tip of my nose.
(and then melts immediately afterward)
that snowflake'll turn into a raging blizzard
screaming my name until the cold snap is over
and the world is covered with the glaciate, bruised feathers
of birds once in flight

i'll kick up my feet on my frozen desk, blow the smoke
from the crumbling shell that once was my determination
and smile ruefully and the world i first took over and then destroyed
yes i know i used glaciate as an adjective when it's actually a verb forget it okay sometimes i need to make up some word uses just for the sake of the poem
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