they say that the canada jays
are true to canadian ways:
they have fluffy feathers
for very cold weather
and nest in the coldest of days
–photo by me
limerick 69
Category: poetry
the lone eagle
a top predator,
he’s at the top of his game
in the top of a tree–
yet ‘the top’ is not for all;
i hear that it’s lonely there
–photo by me
haiku 164
ghostly auroras–
long fingers of light fumbling
around in the dark
–photo by me
sunday thoughts 12/3/23
i don’t go to a man-made church;
the ever-changing sky is my temple.
it has no doors, no roof, no book.
you’ll find no labels or shame here,
only profound awe and wonder,
and an overwhelming reverence
for the beauty and grandeur
of the living sky.
–photo by me
senryu 68
if you watch your mate
like a hawk, you may see them
fly away some day
–photo by me
fiery old folks (shadorma)
we old folks
live from day to day,
determined
not to die–
tho the sun has slipped away,
there’s fire in the sky
–photo by me
Shot of the Day 11/28/23
I’m standing out here in the bitter cold wind on the shore of Lake of the Woods, and the lake is freezing over as I watch. The ice has spread out another 10 feet or so since I got here; it won’t be long now till all 1,700 square miles of the lake will disappear under ice.
and now, before my very eyes,
the lake begins to crystallize;
it spreads so fast, i must surmise
the fish are in for a surprise
–photo by me
perfect sky (archives)
i peered into a perfect sky–
so perfect, it looked fake,
and suddenly
it came to me
that i was not awake.
with that, the thought occurred to me
that maybe i could fly–
without ado
away i flew
into the perfect sky.
–photo by me
Jody’s Depression
My wife Jody suffered from depression (which eventually led to her fatal drug overdose), and I remember how frustrated I was that I couldn’t do anything to help. It came from inside her, and seemed to have little to do with how things were.
It’s been over 12 years since she’s been gone, and life goes on. When I took this photo, it reminded me of her depression, so I wrote down how I think she might’ve felt:
there’s a bright blue sky
just beyond these dark trees;
a wonderful world of beauty;
a world of light and love
where people wave and smile
and life…happens;
a world of fussy grandmas
and naughty grandchildren–
if only I could get beyond
these damn black trees!
it’s no use; they’re too thick.
maybe if I take more morphine,
i’ll get to that blue sky.
And that she did.
–photo by me
haiku 163
it’s late in the year
the river should be frozen
i’ll go with the flow
–photo by me
michaeljordahl 