Black and White Survival.
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By Ed Crane
- 1338 reads
Skeletal against a cold-hearted sky.
The gold flown on south-storm winds.
Birds that choose to remain no longer
have a hideout amongst green friends
offering insect harvests in their palms.
Exposed to frigid view, avian visitors
abandon their perches except to signal
warnings to ambitious neighbours.
A time of slim pickings on searches
between sodden blades of grass.
Endured in the hope they’ll live to see
pregnant buds birth emerald once more.
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Comments
There is a beauty in the
There is a beauty in the coldness and stillness you portray, and those skeletal trees and the avian survivors give something to think about! Rhiannon
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Bleak and beautiful Ed, thank
Bleak and beautiful Ed, thank you
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Reading your evocative words
Reading your evocative words has made me shiver.
I pity those avian visitors, but I suppose they know what they're doing.
Turlough
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Pick of the Day
This evocative poem is our Facebook and X Pick of the Day! Please do share if you enjoy it too.
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Poem of the Week
It's also our Poem of the Week. Congratulations!
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yes, we live in hope.
yes, we live in hope.
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