Wednesday is here again. I feel like I’m in a whirlpool heading for Christmas, the calendar is full, and I’m forgetting what day it is. Wednesday already? I did have the forethought on Saturday to save a photo from our friend-poet-teacher Molly Hogan. As you know, she is an avid photographer of wildlife. She posts her photos on Instagram and Facebook. In Maine, apparently bluebirds are still there. We start to see them down south around Christmas. I really don’t know how Molly takes such fine photos of birds. I asked her once and she said, “I just take a lot of them, so one or two come out good.” I also think she has patience for the good shot that I don’t have.
This female bluebird has an attitude. She seems to have a teacher’s stance, wide alert eye with her beak in the air, on the verge of letting out a loud call. So I did a quick search and found this video of an Eastern bluebird call.
Take a moment to take in the sound. How would you describe it in a poem?
Write a small poem in the comments and support other writers with encouraging comments.
Warble
Margaret Simon, draft #haynaku #gratitude #poemsofpresence
World in tune–
Harmony heals us.
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Reflections on the Teche 
Oh Molly is a fine photographer and this is lovely. I also love the winter and berries photo with the birdsong. I wrote my poem before looking at anything here! (You’ll see what I mean.) We have never hung a bluebird box. I should think about it. They are so delicate and pretty.
Here’s my draft
Delicate Checklist
by Janet Fagal
little bluebird ponders
berries, when to fly south
tiny keen eye
notes the sky’s mettle
listens for cloudsong
graces my path
with gentle notes
then lifts softly toward blue
© all rights reserved
I love how you got right inside that bluebird’s head, Molly. I have several bluebird boxes and delight each year in seeing a new brood raised. They are lovely birds.
Oh Janet, I love your word choices with cloudsong and the lifting toward blue. Lovely.
Oh how I love bluebirds! I tried to catch that attitude of confidence in my very short poem:
the bluebird
trills hello
announces
I am here
Trills is a good verb specific to their sound. We had a bluebird house that housed only wasps so we took it down. Always wishing.
Yes, the bluebird is so lovely and I wish I saw more of them around. We have crows in the area so I don’t know if they scare away other birds. I agree with Margaret! Trills, lovely. I appreciate your comment, too, Rose.
Rose, I love the simple announcement: I am here. Yes!!!
Nothing lovelier than a bluebird in autumn!
a burble of blue
greets November’s falling leaves…
berries on a bush
Love burble of blue. Truly a gift to see one of these in the world.
I wish I was more of a birder. I am going to go to Sapsucker Woods at Cornell for tutoring maybe!!! I was there long ago and I know if I just got out with others who could help point the way and teach me more, I’d do better. I love burble of blue, too, Buffy!
Yes the burbles and lots of other B words. Lovely!
Margaret, Oh to harmony in all things. And nature which heals us, too. Sweet haiku, Margaret. Thanks for noticing my those lines. I am thinking I could leave out the line in between to make it tighter…..what do you think? But I wanted to include the calling of the bluebird….
Steadfast eye
Beak held high
Auburn vest
Blue for festivity
Listen…
“I’m a pretty bird…
aren’t I pretty?”
I love how the bluebird spoke in your poem. Yes you are a pretty bird.
Margaret, I like your thought harmony heals us. Do you have time to send me one of your seasonal poems for my gallery? I am sharing when I host PF next week. If any of your young poets want to share their work, please send those also.
Finally getting here to read these — they are all wonderful! Ruth, thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com
the bluebird with fierce
and eyes like Queen Elizabeth
the day goes on
while she stands tall
perched on her leaves of luck