His Call

He calls and repeats his call,it travels on the tepid breeze,encircles the weary woodland,rises up to crafty cumulus clouds,trails passed each blade of grassand falls into empty, murky marsh. He waits and waits even longer,his tune falls to silent, vacant realms knowing her image trails in his mind,lifts his head and rises high to listening,heContinue reading “His Call”

Journaling Wisconsin: At Turtle Creek

Turtle creek flows under a weathered bridge where an old country road meanders.In spring crowds of geese gather noisily;tucked atop brittle corn stubble fieldsunning eastwardly on many mornings. The Red-wings are causing a rumpusatop pompous grasses swaying in wind;perched too on worn fence posts aligned like stretched dominos, as kill-dear chatter along road trusting their nestsContinue reading “Journaling Wisconsin: At Turtle Creek”