Just a quick post to announce the Polar Vortex has iced the launch of The Curve of Her Arm scheduled for tomorrow night in Coshocton, at the Johnson-Humerickhouse Museum. Hope to reschedule soon! In the meantime, it is still available for purchase by leaving me a comment here and I will contact you, or at NightBallet Press.
After watching the birds gathering at the bird feeder today, I thought I'd share this winter poem with you:
Two grackles descended on the feeder by my window.
The day was bitter, and the snow deep on this,
their first visit to the establishment.
The finches flustered and blustered, most affronted by these leviathans.
The nuthatches honked up and down the trunk of a nearby maple,
And a lone chickadee cocked his head from a branch above,
as if to say, “Who are these clowns?’
The grackles jumped and swung on the feeder like two wild boys on monkey bars.
Suddenly one paused, looked in the window, and - I swear – winked at me.
Then with a flash of midnight blue, the two flew off seed in beak,
Leaving me with monkey bar dreams of my own.