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Bits of Poetry

~ Linda R Davis, Raven of Peace & Poetry

Bits of Poetry

Tag Archives: Ravens

Hog Lake Falls

01 Wednesday May 2019

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

arrowleaf balsamroot, Bird Poems, Crows, Gratitude, Happiness, Hog Lake, Hog Lake Falls, Hope, Horse, Horse Poems, Horses, Life, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Ravens, Spirit, Spokane, spring poem, Waterfalls

The ground sounds hollow,

an echoing cadence of hoofbeats

follows among ponderosa, & a caw-caw

of wood raven, forest spies tattling

on our prattling happy chatter,

while hawks circle the pool

at the base of hog lake falls,

& balsamroot whispers

about the perfection of it all.

You, Me, and the Spokane River

02 Tuesday Apr 2019

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Poetry

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Tags

Canada Geese, Cowboy, Freedom, Hope, Horse, Horse Poem, Horse Poems, Horse poetry, Horses, Life, Love, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Ravens, River, Soul, Souls, Spirit, Spirits, Spokane, Spokane River, Spring, Survival

We rode dirt and mud,

through standing water,

like ponds, to verify

the sun, and life

of returning things:

Canada Geese, wood ravens,

mule deer, grazing at dusk,

and the river, surging

with the spring run off

of our souls, singing.

A Goodbye to the Crippling Desk

19 Wednesday Dec 2018

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Uncategorized

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Tags

Falcon, Horses, Irish Wolfhound, Jobs, Life, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Priorities, Ravens, Soul, Spirit, Work

The crippling desk, for six years,

granite topped, and bright

with the computer’s glare,

the tapping of keys,

the winding path of a mouse,

the click, click, clicking,

a sickening tick-tock of life.

Today, I say goodbye,

trade you in for a beautiful chaos,

throw myself to the world,

the raven, the falcon who tried to enter

through the upstairs window,

the horses and wolfhounds,

with their joyful lope and pounding

of the ground, the music, the words,

the gray, but wide-open sky.

Raven Racing a BNSF Train Through Eastern Washington

08 Sunday Apr 2018

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Uncategorized

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Tags

Courage, Eastern Washington, Fishtrap Lake, I-90, Moses Lake, Nobility, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Raven, Ravens, Seattle, Spokane, Strength, Washington

Imagine this: an arid countryside

In early spring, wild grasses

Still brown and dormant

From the autumn before,

Cumulus clouds, dark, heavy,

Make it seem like night,

Though your watch says otherwise.

There’s a lake reflecting the clouds,

Known for its rainbow trout,

Which attracts fishermen and birds,

And a BNSF train breaking westward

Toward Moses Lake and Seattle.

Imagine a raven soaring

Over the train, and with it:

The train, with its many orange cars,

The raven, ripping, racing, winning,

And reducing everything to backdrops

and props, objects bowed

By a single, scrappy black bird.

A World That Killed John Lennon

09 Wednesday Jul 2014

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Uncategorized

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Tags

Crows, Hot Summers, Husbands, John Lennon, John Lennon's Death, Madness, Murder, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Ravens, Red Tail Hawks, Souls, The Atlantic, The Atlantic Magazine, Wives

Everyday, I try to find peace
In a world that killed Lennon;
Not only peace, but poetry.
The skies are open here, broken
Only by straggly stands of Ponderosa,
And, from my place on this earth
I can see the Red Tails hunting
Over the fields, and two crows
Gathering at the barn, for what—
To eat something that’s dead there?
Or, the thing I choose to believe,
A kindred reconnection of souls.
Today, I don’t want to know
The truth. It’s too hot.
Almost 100 degrees and much of what
Was on the verge of madness,
Has gone wholly to madness.
A husband entered a building, killed his wife.
Another man admitted doing the same
Only a short drive away.
Israel is at war, again, with Hamas,
As I sit and read The Atlantic, contemplating
The creative, communal genius of rock stars.
And, trying to find peace in a world
That shot John Lennon four times In the back.

The Mystery of Trees, Cats, Crows & Coyotes

06 Sunday Jul 2014

Posted by Linda R Davis Poetry in Uncategorized

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Tags

Cat Poems, Coyotes, Crow Poems, Crows, Funerals, Hawks, Poem, Poems, Poetry, Ravens, Trees

When our black cat lay dead

at the foot of the crooked mailbox,

her sister circled nearby in the trees.

Three days later, she too was gone.

I thought I’d heard before,

cats will disappear

when someone dies.

Often, in trees near our house,

we see hawks, hear crows,

sometimes, they fight.

There is a madness in the trees;

it resembles our own madness.

Like the funerals of crows,

their gathering in trees,

their communal mourning,

their many scold calls.

Have you heard them?

They go on like that

over their dead.

Coyotes also gather in sound;

their howls manic and frantic,

the way we imagine demons,

if there were demons.

There is a place in the trees

where everything disappears:

cats, crows, even coyotes.

It’s a dark mystery we dream,

the sounds coming to us on wind,

through lonely skies,

and brutal, beautiful trees.

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