Crossing the park, 11am Monday

Scattered folds of night
litter bright mown grasses
spring up into the air
startled, flapping
at our arrival

We watch them wheel and
turn above us
spot a Red Kite floating high
turn again, caw to each other
settle under advantageous trees

Kite eats carrion not crow

Copyright © 2022 Kim Whysall-Hammond

For this week’s earthweal challenge, we are asked to “write of WILD MIND. How does green fire take root in the thought of our poems?”

I am offering up a little vignette of parkife here in my small town. After a morning of Internet research for a local project, I took a walk, and was lifted by my local birds.

20 thoughts on “Crossing the park, 11am Monday

  1. I love a poem with birds in it. I love their true voices, so much clearer than ours. A wonderful poem. We have so many crows here. Ravens, too. But the crows are noisier. We locals have to grin at the tourists who leave their bags of groceries in the backs of their pickups, or untended at the beach, and come back to find crows having a raucuous party!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. How wonderful that the arrival of crows chases the litter of night which rises like birds. That is a startling new image to me, and I believe it. The alliterated wit of your last line might just be the arrival of a human in an otherwise bird level narrative. Yesterday my lawn was littered with winter starlings. Today they are replaced by robins! Sping!

    Liked by 1 person

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