Click Page 85

Poetry of Issue #8        Page 85


Woodpeckers eat fashionably late
at the feeder
the last of the oak leaves drift
down circling in slow motion

a blue jay lands on the railing
and calls out
we regard each other

it is November the first snow
and 25% of his species is gone

the snow mixes with rain
falls on his lost habitat

we regard each other
in silence

  Gregg Weatherby