| Sunday Morning in Covelo Stand Above, hunter Looking down into Misted ancient Lake. Fog Shrouded valley Only mountain tops Show above the Mist. Silence Chattering squirrel Rumbling truck motor Disturb, puncture My dream. Descend Back into Civilized valley Cars, cell phones too Live here. But For brief moment One may escape into Other long gone Lives. -MW | Covelo of a Wintry Day The wintry twilight of year's end Reveals more than it promises, A shroud of clouds and ground low-mist Leave valley and hills in eerie light. The fields are hoary, the sky dull gray. The trees bereft of leaves stand stark, Their shadows are no less bare. Wee birds sit clustered on barren limbs, Their feathers fluffed and softly chattering. The quiet is shattered by piercing screech Of a hawk soaring high above the trees And peering in vain for prey below. Two hunters wearied by the chase Trudge slowly by with their felled game. Loud-cawing crows announce their presence In circling flight below thick clouds. The anxious mooing of distant cows Heralds the end of another short day. Farmhouse lights begin to flicker And scattered chimneys to spew wood smoke. Soon all will be blotted out by night And cold silence will prevail. -JM |
An epigram a day:
Culture is smug in its self-adoration.
Nature is cruel in its utter indifference.
Wildflowers need no caring and feelings, no tutoring.
Rabbits never chase coyotes.
Things are not the important things in life.
Beauty is not in the eye but in the heart of the beholder.
A wasted day may be a day well spent.
Reason argues; animal spirits prevail.
Culture is smug in its self-adoration.
Nature is cruel in its utter indifference.
Wildflowers need no caring and feelings, no tutoring.
Rabbits never chase coyotes.
Things are not the important things in life.
Beauty is not in the eye but in the heart of the beholder.
A wasted day may be a day well spent.
Reason argues; animal spirits prevail.
 | Piccolisms: Cats are for chasing. |