On a feathered drum

She sips her morning

coffee, wonders what people

are saying, thinking


while the dappled mare

watches him arrive,

disappear down the trail.


Staring at boulders

settled in a narrow stream

black and moss covered;


he imagines being gone


returns to crows chasing

sharp-shinned hawk. Grouse beating

love me on a feathered drum.




10 thoughts on “On a feathered drum

    • Thanks Michele. Disappearing is one of my favourite themes (of thought in any case). These days it’s also beginning to transition into the notion of “blending”…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s