9/15/2010

Dave Bonta September 15, 2010

Birdcalls are distant, intermittent. I’m reading about Auschwitz and thinking, it’s vital to learn the names. Someday it may be all we have.

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9/15/2010

April 18, 2023
A cold and rainy dawn. The thermometer’s red pointer crosses the Centigrade zero—a null set. I say an atheist’s prayer for all the new leaves.
9/15/2010

April 18, 2022
White sky slowly disappearing the sun like a pregnant rabbit reabsorbing her litter. Cedar waxwings come whistling down to the stream to drink.
9/15/2010

April 18, 2021
In bright sun, the tulip poplar’s green torch beside a black cherry’s cloud of tiny pink leaves.
9/15/2010

April 18, 2020
Did it really rain hard last night, or did I dream that? The creek seems no louder. High against the clouds, a small hawk flaps…
9/15/2010

April 18, 2019
The croak of a raven skimming the treetops. A white-throated sparrow fresh from bathing in the stream grooms itself in the weak sunshine.
9/15/2010

April 18, 2018
Egg-white sky with one sun over medium. It’s cold. I’m reading a line about roosters crowing just as the neighbor’s rooster begins to crow.
9/15/2010

April 18, 2017
‪The tulip tree’s leaves have burst their buds—a pale green cloud. A gnatcatcher in the shadbush darts and hovers like a slow hummingbird.‬
9/15/2010

April 18, 2016
White clouds of shadbush blossoms off in the woods. A tiger swallowtail circles the yard—the silent applause of its great yellow wings.
9/15/2010

April 18, 2015
Flies and butterflies, gnats and gnatcatchers, blue-headed vireo, paper wasp. The towhee in the lilac bush starts his song with a stutter.
9/15/2010

April 18, 2014
The flickers that have been hanging around the yard copulate next to the old den hole in the elm snag—the one a black snake raided…

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The Morning Porch

Daily short takes from an Appalachian hollow

9/15/2010