The Absent Poet Returns

Life has been full and joyful, but oh my, I have failed to tend this website. A thousand apologies! Shall I make it up to you with a poem? Want to go to the mountains? I wrote this while sitting on a cabin porch in southwestern Colorado.

In the Sangre de Cristo Mountains

High up rocking on a cabin porch
perched on top of a ridge.
 
Black clouds bubble. Booms rumble.
The whole mess surges at me.
 
A hummingbird feeder dangles 
from the roof. Oscillates wildly.
 
I should go inside, but I keep 
rocking, hat tied under my chin, 

brim flapped up at attention,
temperature dropping, I grin.

lean forward, intently watching
a dozen tiny birds thrumming.

Torpedo thin. Darting in and out.
Hovering. Unshakeable in the wind.