by Beverley Rannow
A long thin hollow quill
Gently curved
With light satiny hairs
Extending left and right
Curved upward
Translucent browns of
Dark, medium and light
Fading to rusty red leftward
With alternating dark brown stripes
Yellowy brown between
Overlaid right with staticky brown print
And a hawk takes flight!
Loss
by Beverley Rannow
It creeps in,
Small at first.
The indignity of a fall after a toddler’s first steps.
The sadness of a beloved pet lost.
The unspoken and unrecognized loss of country, thrust upon you with no say.
The loss of beloved grandparents to whom no last goodbye can be uttered.
The pain of first love betrayed, which feels like you’ve been stabbed with a knife.
Children flying the nest, have you prepared them to take flight?
The loss of parents, an unfilled gap with unexpressed words of love.
The indignity of falls taunting that fragile person you are becoming, despite your best efforts.
Loss leading to
Tears that stick in your eyes that your body just can’t seem to let flow.
