Like the coming and going of an ocean tide — the currents, the “waves” —
A small gray Mockingbird chased a big black Crow — relentlessly:
From tree to tree, branch to branch — disappearing within the green leaves.
Posted in journaling, nature, poetic prose, poetry, writing exercise Tagged birds, crows, flight, journaling, Korean, mockingbirds, nature, neighborhood, poem, sijo, street, trees, writing exercise
When I heard [from behind] the ragged call of the faraway Crow,
I felt, saw, as well as heard, the harsh syllables of each Crow caw.
It was like the torn worn teeth of an old sinewy black comb.
Posted in journaling, nature, poetry, writing exercise Tagged birds, call, crows, journaling, nature, poem, sijo, writing exercise
The Black Birds [like a gust of wind] flew in-between the branches —
Their chattering chirps, a Hosanna , to the startling mild climate.
I almost, GLEEFULLY, broke my neck looking up at them.
Like a cloud, the long-haired gray cat floated across the cul-de-sac
then perched at the edge of a driveway, waiting to see If I Am —
Oh best run away ( Friend or Foe?) hide, play it safe.
Dead leaves dropped into the water, near the small tunnel opening.
There was churning in the stream, little ripple on the surface.
But the Frogs, who live here, are silent, sleeping, winter slumber.
Posted in journaling, nature, poetry, writing exercise Tagged frogs, journaling, nature, poem, seasons, sijo, Winter, writing exercise
The shaggy white cat, a gray-tabby map [tattooed] on its back;
mesmerized, methodical walk [across] the nearly dead grass —
oblivious to the yellow dandelion [he] stepped on.
The white seagull who was floating [gliding] across the gray asphalt,
bending his wings, his arms, his elbows, finger [feathers] beckoning —
Why do gulls mimic lost [human] children searching for their mamas?
Posted in journaling, nature, poetry, writing exercise Tagged birds, journaling, nature, poem, seagulls, sijo, storytelling, writing exercise