Pileated Woodpecker

Awesome is just the right word
For such a magnificent bird.
The crown on his head
Of plumage so red
Is fearsome and graceful concurred.


Sharing Grief

Share with me the tears you’re hiding.
You needn’t smile or say a word.
Just let me come quietly to your side.
I know the need for solitude,
And you need not cry alone


Silent Snowfall

In the stillness of the woodland I listened for
the sound of snowflakes falling on dry leaves.
I heard the approaching thunder of five diesel locomotives
and their cars that rumbled on and on.  Long after their clackity-clack faded
I could still hear the horn blaring at every backwoods crossing.
And somewhere a chain saw was cutting the quietness into short pieces.

I heard the cry of a distant siren and felt no concern for what it meant.
A bass rump-a-thump rump-a-thump came from a car driven by some
dimwit who had the audacity to force me and every other living creature
to hear what he considered music.  I hoped he would go deaf.
No matter how far he drove, I could still hear his obnoxious thumping till
a chickadee, with her one note song, diverted my attention and soothed my anger.

I heard a whining duet of tired jet engines droning toward a
terminal beyond the horizon.  I longed to sail away to some
remote island where all the sounds are gentle and pleasant.
When finally the stillness returned, I tried again the hear the snow
falling on the dry leaves.  But all I could hear was the ringing echo
from too many years of noise battering unprotected nerves.

With snow in my hair, I flop in front of the TV
and turn the volume up a bit.