The Morning Porch

Dave Bonta April 26, 2013 1

The fierce cries of a male kestrel climbing, fluttering and diving over the corner of the field. A crow hurries over to harass it.

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Silhouetted against the dawn sky, a squirrel forages for birch seeds right where Venus was last seen, glimmering through thin clouds.
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Back after a 10-day absence, I watch a front move in: blowing curtains of white. It’s as if winter had been waiting for me. Juncos…
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