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Posts Tagged ‘nature’

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It blows in

from the sea,

that ancient wind –

splitting in half

around the mountain,

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and where it meets itself

on the other side

it clashes thunderously,

failing recognition.

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(c) 1994, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright

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bird2

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We found a little box

with a speckled bird inside

and fed it bits of food

and water from a dropper,

until the day he asked

for a bigger place.

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And so we placed him lovingly

inside a gilded cage

with trays of seeds

and a wooden perch

where he could hop about.

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“This is fine for now,” he said,

“but tomorrow

I want something bigger.”

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We quickly built an aviary

with maple trees

and blueberry shrubs

where he could flutter

through the leaves.

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“This is nice for now,” he said.

But after several days he asked

to wing about the house,

and finally out the window.

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We watched him fly

through forests and valleys,

and finally up into the sky

between the stars, and out

beyond the Milky Way.

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A year went by

and one day he returned,

asking for his little box.

He snuggled down to rest, and said,

“This will do just fine –

for I can see forever

from here now.”

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© 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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Poem is from a dream I had last April. 

The image is a partial of a print my late parents had – artist unknown. (Update – the artist is Jill Fogelsong.)  The sun just happened to be shining through the window in a certain way, giving it a rainbow effect — which caught my eye. I wasn’t planning to post an image with this poem, but it presented itself just in time. Funny how things work out….

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selective focus photo of white petaled flower

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Sunlight shrinks away

behind the thin of poplar trees,

spiders throw red shadows

in the paths of tired bees,

spells of a waxing moon are cast

and dragonflies change speed

with just a touch of madness

as summer goes to seed.

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(c) 1993, 2018 Betty Hayes Albright

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(a re-post from 2011 – revised)

.Photo by Ithalu Dominguez on Pexels.com

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IMG_7879b

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It’s almost too much –

the bee in the center of the rose,

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the hummer mating

with the hot pink flute of August,

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puffs of clover in the honey

tied up in a bow

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with golden mari

and the lion’s yellow dandi.

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Oh glorious!

I must sometimes turn away –

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no wonder that the fly

needs a thousand eyes.

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© 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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Photo taken in 2014, Edmonds, Washington

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path in woods by Jason

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Under the jungle-wood

resting on the rock

we hauled down

from Jack’s Pass,

tree limbs hover low, and

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brush my dirt-stained feet

as I stretch

into the mesh

of heathered sunlight

through the leaves.

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(c) 1982, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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This is a revision of a poem written in 1982.

Photo taken by my son, Jason Judd.

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Clouds

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Clouds morphing,

chasing through the sky

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storming in a buffalo,

scooting off a lamb –

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shifty creatures

drawn by the wind.

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©  1982, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(Revised from a 1982 poem.)

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IMG_3491

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Polka-dotted sky

white-cheeked clouds mooning the earth

pansy smiles and winks.

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(c)  1992, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(re-posted from 2013)

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