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I pause at the window
for juncos, skittish in
the forsythia’s icy arches
a frozen fountain
of slumbering branches
strung with feathered notes
heads bowed
against harsh winds
half in prayer
half poised to sing
a somber song
about being hung out
on a limb somewhere
between earth and sky
far from spring
This poem first appeared in NJ Audubon.
Used here with the author’s permission.
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John Smith is a retired high school English teacher in New Jersey whose work has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies. The author of two books, Even That Indigo and All My Ghosts Are Here, John's poem, "Lived Like a Saint" was set to music by composer Tina Davidson for the choral work, Listening to the Earth. Another poem, "Birding," was commissioned by New Jersey Audubon for their centennial. In addition to writing poetry, John enjoys cooking, gardening, and keeping an eye on the birds.
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Jo:
Beautiful poem, John.The imagery shines in winter's coat.
Thank you.
Posted 01/17/2012 01:21 PM
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Carol Hauer:
Ah,the juncos. I like the musical imagery. This poem is a sweet song in itself. Thank you.
Posted 01/17/2012 09:53 AM
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Glen Sorestad:
Such precision of detail! Beautifully done, John.
Posted 01/17/2012 09:03 AM
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dotief@comcast.net:
This poem captures my feelings about winter--cold, lonely and harsh. And I even live in Florida.
Posted 01/17/2012 09:03 AM
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mimi:
a perfect painting of a poem, John...thanks!
Posted 01/17/2012 07:41 AM
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