Gliding on air frequenciesBranches, empty trees,
Crows, birds, huge, noisy, beacons.
This blog is about beads, people who make beads, my life, my dog, my friends.
This blog is about beads, people who make beads, my life, my dog, my friends.
"Gliding on air frequencies" will stick with me, Mallory :) I love to hear them cawing from the row of trees back by the train tracks here.
ReplyDeleteI like your Haiku!
ReplyDeleteOne of my favourite poems is this one from Edward Thomas - it too is about crows and winter -
Over the land freckled with snow half-thawed
The speculating rooks at their nests cawed
And saw from elm tops, delicate as flower of grass,
What we below could not see, Winter pass.