dawn’s birdsong

  across the mountains 

   the mist curls and drops…

   dawn’s birdsong 

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43 thoughts on “dawn’s birdsong

  1. Once I saw while alone in a canoe in fog-bound barely moving Wekiva River here in Central Florida just miles from home, came a great whooshing just past vision and the mists parted and individual fog-droplets fell away to reveal a Great Blue Heron launching itself from its knee-deep stance in the Scenic And Wild River from which as a youth I could dip in a hand for a half-cup of sweet drink, and then saw the most astounding thing: whirls and whorls off the orchestrated wingtips of this majestic silent bird, like the twin horizontal vertices one sees from a helicopter at takeoff in a misty mountain valley, just mesmerizing. The long-stroke wingwork moved foggy mists in such a manner that my paddle slipped from its thwarts and joined up in tandem with my craft all without my notice. I thought for a moment: I am glad I did not have my careras ready for this – that would have taken too much attention from this God-given moment. Thus your poem flushed out so many visual, aural and mental images, dear lady. Thank you so much.

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