The whorl of summer

lifts the hem of her skirt

unfurling sunsets

of ocher and cerise.

She festoons the earth

with unfastening coils,

tight throated corollas

of raw bursting blisters.

Warring birds swoop up

new born buds,

unwilling to wait for

winter’s red meat.

Painting by Xevi Vilaro

108 thoughts on “hungry birds

  1. I wish you would gift a little talent of yours to me. I think we all know, you are an untapped reservoir of greatness- you could never run out!

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  2. This poem swooped up all the buds around here, that’s for sure!
    Ah, Ms. Wordsmith, I hear a gentle harp accompanying your verse. ❦❦

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  3. Again, your words sank into a place within born of Wild. Gorgeous imagery you painted with some words I actually had to look up. Absolutely stunning, Holly, the way you describe summer. Thank you so much! 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

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          1. Humility suits you, dear friend. It’s a Gift to be brilliant, as you are, yet to remain humble is the Greater Gift, IMO. I’m smiling and have goosebumps. Bless YOU!🌹🌹🌹

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      1. They sure are. I have some that visit my trees and flowers every year. I planted them to attract butterflies but they also attract hummingbirds. I love this piece! Happy Thursday to you ❤

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  4. Why did Frida Kahlo come to mind? Well she did in the sense that this speaks of a luscious one who is fecund and creatively fills her space, loved it.

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