2 February 2024 (first vulture)
Kristen Lindquist
first vulture
or maybe it never left
February thaw
Use the form on the right to contact me.
123 Street Avenue, City Town, 99999
(123) 555-6789
email@address.com
You can set your address, phone number, email and site description in the settings tab.
Link to read me page with more information.
BOOK OF DAYS: A POET AND NATURALIST TRIES TO FIND POETRY IN EVERY DAY
Sign up on the Contact Me page
Filtering by Tag: thaw
first vulture
or maybe it never left
February thaw
winter mist anticipating a swan
winter mist
delicate flies drift
into a window
late winter thaw . . .
mist wreaths the islands
locked in lake ice
paired chickadees
the intermittent whispers
of melting bog ice
snowmelt
dripping from the eaves
a chickadee’s love song
brief thaw
green places on the map
lichen
a brief thaw
long shadows of trees
stretching in sunlight
Christmas fern
what else was green
under the snow
warm spell
porcupine enchanted
by still-green grass
brief thaw
chickadees trying out
spring love songs