For weeks now their crouching run,
A moving field of Scandinavian beauty,
Stained red and eye-browed.
Lately they flocked and wheeled,
Small groups fusing,
Now fifty strong,
Calling and whistling.
Yesterday they flew away,
North wind on their wings,
Frost on their beaks.
An emptiness on our fields.
(Previously published in Envoi)
16 comments:
Hi Juliet, calling in to wish you a wonderful Easter, best wishes, The Artist
Forgot to mention enjoying using my site link to pop over and check out your latest poems, bye again, The Artist
Thanks for visiting again! Happy Easter to you too!
Love the last line.It hurts your heart, but in a good way!
Great senses of movement here. Enjoyed it!
Juliet i received my copy of your book 'Unthinkable Skies' thanks for agreeing to book swap :)
much love
gillena
Beautiful.
Marvellous poem on Redwings Juliet, this one wants to talk with it:
EAGER
Gulls look more relaxed,
cormorants while flying
beat their wings so quickly
anxiously against the void,
being in a hurry maybe,
eager to comprehend
this eternal transit.
Lovely poem!
I hate when birds leave, except for the Canadian geese who soil all the athletic fields in this vicinity!
Like this one...
Oh, those familiar feathered wings :)
beauty, Juliet!
I hope we'll get to Edinburgh some day. A friend's daughter has just been accepted at St. Andrew's.
love the Redwing poem. Like the other commenter said, "It hurts your heart, but in a good way." I too loved the last line.
always so uplifting to read your poetry. this is no exception. beautifully written. always a wondrous sight watching birds take flight and sad to see them leave our fields empty. hope all is well.
What a delightful poem :)
You have such a nice place to stay here xx
Short Poems
Lovely poem - the last line provides a strong contrast to the busy, movable feast of birds gathering to leave in the previous stanzas.
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