It feels weird to even think this, let alone say it out loud. But I think the same set of birds that seem to live in my garden are back. A true sign of spring. They were here yesterday. They came back today. A gnarly bunch. A diverse bunch. Sparrows, red breasted robins, cardinal ( the red one with that funky head piece), and a green parakeet. That one I didn’t see.
The birds are back again today
This time, more than just one couple
She is still about the work of the day
Still locked in her nest building bubble
No, I didn’t know all that about birds. I looked it up at The Cornell Lab – All About Birds. Very interesting site. It’s connected to Cornell University I think.
For dVerse Poets Pub where Frank Hubeny is hosting…the prompt is Couplets. My first time writing one of these. To read more about it, to see other entries or to participate go here
She is not one to say it often. I’m not sure why that is. Maybe she doesn’t know how, never learned how. Maybe she’s just not good at it.
My mom has been on her own, for the most part since she was thirteen. Her mom died one morning as she was readying her daughters for school.
I’m thinking since then, she has had issues with god / creator for letting such a catastrope befall her and her younger sister.
Some things trickle down, whether it was meant to or not.
I am no good at love. Most times leave me feeling like a lunatic, if not acting like one.
But, I keep an open heart. Even so, “I don’t know why I was surprised every time love started or ended.” I guess in a cock-eyed sorta of way, I believe in love.
Over at dVerse Poets Pub the prompt is to write prose (keeping it tight at no more than 144 words) and to include the line below:-
“I don’t know why I was surprised every time love started or ended.”
She came to visit on a peaceful saturday evening. Meandering conversations about everyday things, morphed into events of childhood and upbringing.
The traumas and dramas, the love and conflicts. Families and their decisions made out of love, that is truly misunderstood by the young minds they were meant to shield.
Then came reflections on this life changing sorrow. There are moments caught between heart-beats, that goes the way of time. There is no changing it. There is no revisiting it And its one true quality is that it is everlasting.
This was one of those moments. After the revelation it just hung in the air.
a mother’s grief – in remembrance through decades, she kept the last T-shirt he wore, bullet hole intact
For dVerse Poets Pub where Kim is hosting and the phrase to be incorporated in the response is ” There are moments caught between heart-beats”
As spring creeps in, I keep waiting for the charm of a proper snowfall. This unseasonably warm winter seem to have fooled no one but me. The young leaves of the butterfly bush takes a stand. They look sturdy and healthy. They’re not going anywhere, despite their encounter with a transient snowfall. They’ve suffered no harm.
spring comes alive plant pots at the garden’s edge wore winter like clutter
Dverse Poets Pub where Frank Tassone is hosting Haibun Monday and the prompt is “Spring”