I don’t mind one crow,
on a rail or curb,
by its lonesome.
Nor am I troubled by
a large number of the birds.
(The group designation “murder,”
notwithstanding.)
But where two or three
are gathered, facing
each other…
That’s when I get the
heebie-jeebies.
swamphens strut
at water’s edge, and
i’m a farmboy again.
I take a sunrise photo
And find the glorious orb
Diminished by poor photography,
& upstaged by a flaring pigeon.
snake wrestles fish
onto rocky home turf, &
blends with sun-warmed stones.
grass-rattle, plop!
grass-rattle, plop! -- repeats...
at last, I see a frog.
a squirrel chitters;
its black body against
the ash gray tree.
saffron-colored carp
mill about the garden pond.
a cat watches...
cat on a porch rail
preens between naps
to look good
for the twenty waking
minutes of its day.
A narrow Fellow in the Grass
Occasionally rides --
You may have met him? Did you not
His notice instant is --
The Grass divides as with a Comb,
A spotted Shaft is seen,
And then it closes at your Feet
And opens further on --
He likes a Boggy Acre --
A Floor too cool for Corn --
But when a Boy and Barefoot
I more than once at Noon
Have passed I thought a Whip Lash
Unbraiding in the Sun
When stooping to secure it
It wrinkled And was gone --
Several of Nature's People
I know, and they know me
I feel for them a transport
Of Cordiality
But never met this Fellow
Attended or alone
Without at tighter Breathing
And Zero at the Bone.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 