The Morning Porch

Dave Bonta February 2, 2009

Tracks left yesterday morning have grown blurry and distended. Every weed and grass stem is a bull’s-eye at the center of a pit.

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March 15, 2024
A gray cloud ceiling brightens toward the horizon. A phoebe stridently announces himself to the echoey hillside and the daffodils trembling in the breeze.
March 15, 2023
Clear and cold, with a bitter wind to remind me it’s actually March. I watch the sun through the corner of my eye as it…
March 15, 2022
Sun through thin clouds—a milky light. A phoebe is making the rounds, chanting his call at every past nesting spot: barn, shed, garage…
March 15, 2020
Bright sun. The damp ground glistens like a salamander. A jet goes over—the first I’ve heard in a while.
March 15, 2019
Dark clouds in the west lit up by the sun—backdrop for the first turkey vultures of spring, 14 of them, circling. A field sparrow sings.