Month: April 2021

  • Ten Years Later

    The hawk flies high
    In the clear blue sky
    Reflected in the pool below,
    A messenger I know. 
    
    The hawk knows me, 
    My husband said
    Adding seeds to the feeder,
    I am the feeder of birds. 
    
    Now at the poolside,
    The wind lifting its wings
    The hawk knows me, 
    I am the writer of words. 
    
    April 20, 2021
    
    Kristin Moyer
  • First Blush

    White of pear
    Pink of cherry 
    Purple of plum
    Tender green of leaves
    
    On my window sill the wren sings
    Delirious with spring
    
    As though it were here 
    For the first time.
    
    
    April 13, 2019