The Morning Porch

Dave Bonta January 5, 2024

One last glimpse of the crescent moon before it’s swallowed by clouds. The typewriter sound of squirrel claws on bark, chasing. It’s cold.

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December 9, 2023
Red at dawn, and red again at sunrise for the last day of regular firearms deer season. Finally, at fifteen minutes past sunrise, a rifle…
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Cold and very clear. My shady yard is a refuge for last night’s frost. A feral cat emerges from under the house and gives me…
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Steady rain. The cardinal makes two sorties against his reflection in the window and retreats to the shelter of the cedar tree.