a stone in a river, 27

Blind cat doesn’t know
it’s too early
to go


/ / /

/ / /

I’m pretty much sucking at this.


a stone in a river, 24

She’s making a racket:
sparrow youth, fledging
voice a rasp, feather against
any other straight-laced measure.

/ / /

/ / /

Such a strange percussion, long and soft. As if keening had been stripped of tone. (I’d never heard it before today. Cool!)

a stone in a river, 23

So many fly under false notions
yet Crow’s tail feather breaks

then splits
against a sliver of blue sky.

/ / /

Still casting back to Carolee’s line, “the false notion.”

I saw this for the first time, a few days ago. Crow flew in the fir, and his tail spread against air, leaving a glimmer as he sat. It was lovely. And usual, for those with just the right perspective.

Two, crows. Actually.

a stone in a river, 18

she says it’s not the light that bothers her
but the whirring clicks that picture
her grey matter, spotted
signs she is well
on her way


/ / /

My mother had an MRI today to try to access the condition of her brain & count how many mini-strokes she might have had. Her biggest fear is a major stroke. I imagine it is all our fears.