an indigo bunting
dries his wings
Author: Dave Bonta
I live in an Appalachian hollow in the Juniata watershed of central Pennsylvania, and spend a great deal of time walking in the woods. My books of poetry include FAILED STATE: HAIBUN, ICE MOUNTAIN: AN ELEGY, BREAKDOWN: BANJO POEMS, and ODES TO TOOLS.
dancing flames
a ruby-throated hummingbird here and gone
night barn
a field sparrow singing
in his sleep
Memorial Day
a red squirrel raging above the grave
Jupiter and Mars
almost touching the whippoorwill
millipede
fear spiralling in my hand
In black cherry time
This is what happens as soon as I stop walking, my daily habit: I become habitat.
rain crow
when did the back of my hand turn strange?
green again
this dream of endless mountains
Sacrificial
Why is it this year that the familiar warbler songs sound like dripping blood or fabric being torn?
What May Come
Where did it come from, this premonition that someday I will be parted from my head?
Mother’s Day: linked verse sequence
spring azure
with my cellphone camera
stalking the sky
