January’s featured poem

Memory for a Winter Day, by Antonia Matthew
One Spring I saw
Blue Herons,
flying toward a knot of trees
bounded by a rough, muddy road
and ploughed fields
that rolled away ending at the sky.

The herons were silent,
as if flying in from the past,
on their great wings
that tilted, quivered.
They hovered over the trees,
suspended for a moment,
then their long legs stretched down,
wings folded, and they dropped,
drifted through the maze of branches
into the shadows,
landed on their flat, untidy nests
with a slight bob
and fluffing their feathers,
settled
as the late afternoon sun
slid into the grey clouds.

December’s Featured Poem

Writing on Snow

 

Elaborate net of slick
pine needles and gleaming snow
possessing tiny forked bird work etchings
imprints repeated and crossed
detailing trails to banquet
lands exposed
beneath the eastern side
of trees.

Berries bright and dull, met
with excited chirps and maneuvers
offering clues to exposed discoveries.

Now pretend, that the tiny bird-foot
markings comprise an ancient language,
that you now fully understand
and within the newly deciphered
glyphs, you have been told
exactly where your newly
filled feeder must go.

 

 

Written By: Patricia C. Coleman

November’s Featured Nature Poem

The Voice of the Crow

The time of the voice of the crow is here.

The time of corn leaves rasping in the wind.

The time of skies that hurt the eye.

 

The land is dun.

The trees stand naked in their skins.

 

The year is broken.

Crows fly across the gap.

 

 

Written By: Leah Helen May

Let the broken be healed, let the lost be found and fed….

A very special WildCare “thank you” is extended to the Pastors and Members of St. Thomas Evangelical Lutheran Church in Bloomington for its recognition of our mission and special collection for WildCare at the church’s services on Sunday, October 2. The St. Thomas Community honored the work of St. Francis with a St.Francis Sunday Blessing of Creatures.

October’s Featured Nature Poem

 

Bird of Darkness

 

Listen to the eerie calls

of Barred owls perched along

the wooded edges of the creek.

Hunters of the night, their soft flight gives

no warning to the small beasts

they harvest from winter fields,

just a terrifying flare of wings,

the stun of talons driven home.

 

Silent death descends,

punctures life’s bubble,

bears the still-warm flesh away.

Sudden, simple, done.

 

Bird of darkness, when you come for me

surprise me  in the smother of your wings.

Play no cat games but strike

hard and true. Swallow me whole,

hair, hide, and bones, complete.

 

 

Written By: Leah Helen May