Vox Populi

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Peter Blair: Vernation

On the road by the arena,
puddles fill ditches
and flaxen rushes wave
in March rain. 
Frail flick-weed bursts seeds
at the slightest touch
of bird-wing or shoe.
Gray as bark, a wren
perches on a rain-beaded
forsythia stem. 
Heads bent, they weep
into cold tan grass,
as if lamenting
their lemon hair
dimmed to dull suns
in the misty yard:
daffodils in the rain
On Good Friday afternoon
the dead tree
at 3 pm, ragged
and bare in cold sun
blooms with clusters
of brown leaves:
seven squirrels’ nests.
A hawk perches
on a street lamp
as two finches
hover, swoop in
and slam
the tufted feathers
of its nape
beaks aimed
at its eyes.
Across a highway,
a butterfly flits
dips, red wings
shoved by the car-winds,
by a truck, it rights
itself and makes
the spring pines beyond.

Peter Blair’s collections of poetry include Farang (Autumn House, 2010). He lives in Charlotte, North Carolina.

Copyright 2021 Peter Blair

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This entry was posted on March 18, 2021 by in Environmentalism, Poetry and tagged , , , , .

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