For Maia

The window's closed,

but I hear birds. Maybe

they're discussing Spring.

Also 15 Weeks Ago

Brain racket
silenced
by birdsong.

Summer's last hurrah....

Summer's last hurrah--
songbirds, the smell of peaches,
and careless sunburns.

February

 

February,
but through the open window
birdsong. 

Outside are birdsong...

Trying Tanka. I'm missing some syllables.  I'm not sure if the "less is more" approach to syllables holds with Tanka like it does with Haiku. More to learn!

Outside are birdsong
and white and purple flowers --
I listen sometimes,
and sometimes really see,
but I'm no monk.

From Last Night

At dusk,
birdsong and warm wind--
and the smell of tacos. 


In the stifling room,
voices talk of freedom,
hope, love... And the heat.


Evergreen trees
shake gently in the breeze,
swaying to birdsong.